


Long Lost Child

by DaineYui



Series: Long Lost Child Series [1]
Category: IT (2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Crossover, F/M, Gen, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-03-20 08:43:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 92,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaineYui/pseuds/DaineYui
Summary: Mike had thought he’d seen it all. With the help of the Party, he’d saved a girl with super powers, rescued his best friend from a Mind Flayer from the Upside Down, and he still managed to get decent grades. Yet none of it prepared him for the sudden realization that nothing in his life was what it seemed.Richie had already faced the destruction of everything he knew. As if the terror of a clown wasn’t enough, the memory of his mother’s dead body is now seared into his mind.Neither boy expected her death to set off the chain of events that finally brought them together. When Richie ends up on Mike’s doorstep, the two of them have no choice but to face the fact that they’ve both been lied to their entire lives.The one common thread in both their lives is the awareness that adults lie.After all, adults said things like “there’s no such things as monsters” and they all knew better than to believe that.





	1. Prologue

Disclaimer 1: I do not own the Stranger Things or IT characters. The Stranger Things characters were created by the Duffer Brothers and IT characters by Stephen King. I bow to all of them and to the actors that brought these characters to life.

 

Disclaimer 2: Just a heads up that there’s potentially triggering scenes in the story moving forward including but not limited to suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, miscarriage, alcoholism, and child neglect and abuse. If that’s not something you want to have to deal with, I would suggest looking for another story to read that combines this cast! There are tons out there that are wonderful!!

_Long Lost Child_

_Prologue_

 

            Mike Wheeler couldn’t have put his thoughts and emotions into words. He couldn’t figure out a way to structure them into sentences that would explain – help his parents understand – even if he had wanted to. But he doesn’t want to. He knows that it isn’t safe and no one understands anyway.

            Not even Lucas and Dustin. And they had been there for most of it. They had been there when they’d found out about Will’s disappearance, when they’d found El – shivering and wet and alone. They were even there in the final moments. They had seen the way El had used her powers to prevent him from stopping her. How she’d turned around and heard her say _goodbye Mike_ before disappearing along with that _monster_ ( _Dustin’s reproving and exasperated voice, long internalized from too long of exposure, whispers Demodog in his head_ ) and then they’d been surrounded by more adults and questions and being fed stupid bullshit lies about a dangerous Russian spy… and… and…

            They had been there for all 353 days that passed after that.

            All 353 days where they are nothing but a whirlwind of forced normalcy in school, watching over Will ( _because yeah Will is back, and thank God, but he’s not okay. He’s not back to normal and Mike kinda thinks that this is part of what makes his stomach curl angrily and his fingers clench and his leg bounce up and down as he tries to_ be _normal when everything is just shit)_ , all of them acting their various parts. Mike if only to get his parents off his back after getting too many lectures and punishments because life is just _too fucking unfair_ and he can’t bear it if he has to give up another memory that’s tied to El because he’s slowly _angrily_ realizing that he’s the only one holding on to her.

            His friends have moved on, their forced normalcy not so forced anymore, and the redhead may be _tubular_ but she just makes Mike’s teeth grit down hard together until his jaw hurts and he wants to lash out even more. Her presence is loud and making El’s absence by his side and within the Party so much more glaringly obvious. It makes the soft hiss of static so bitingly loud when he’s alone as he makes his daily plea for _anything_ to let him continue to believe that El is alive and okay.

_Please, please, please be okay. Don’t be dead because of me._

            He closes his eyes.

            No.

            He can’t think like that. Because El is okay. The 353 days are over and El’s back. The Mind Flayer is out of Will. The gate is fucking closed. Hawkins Lab is too and even publicly cried out against. And well… they’re all alive ( _except Bob and Mike can hear his screams and Ms. Byers screams whenever he closes his eyes now_ ).

            He should be better. Everyone else seems giddy with relief and yeah, they’re all jumpy at first and it’s back to that _forced normalcy_ bullshit again ( _yet better than last time because El_ is _alive_ ) but then the forced bit disappears again for everyone so quickly that Mike is left feeling alone and a bit stunned.

            Even Will seems to be easing back into every day life so much more smoothly than Mike. He definitely doesn’t need him anymore. And that’s a good thing. Mike knows that it is. But he can’t help but feel a bit used and discarded anyway.

            He knows he should be better and back to his normal self. Excited about D&D, the upcoming summer, the way El looks at him when they are allowed to see each other… and there are moments when he is. But… it’s different. Tainted somehow.

            He just doesn’t know how to go back to the way he used to be. He doesn’t know how to make his brain slow down. He doesn’t know how to let the anger go because he’s afraid of what simmers below the anger. It’s darker and more dangerous than the anger and the irritability.

            It weighs heavily in his stomach and his mind. And sometimes in the darkness, when he lays and simply watches the shadows move around his room as the moon rises and falls, the grief and fear and complete utter loss tightens his throat and his eyes burn. It feels like there’s a scream that’s about to be let loose but it never does.            

            His mind should be quieting down. Just like the anger should be seeping away from him with every passing day that the static gets broken with a soft voice answering his coded messages. It is… somewhat.

            But it also isn’t.

            And he’s at a loss of what to do and how to put what he’s feeling into words to anyone - not just his parents - that he’s slowly drowning.

 

 Tbc...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Secrets Revealed

            “Hey Wheeler!” Dustin’s cheery voice should have brought a smile to his face but he can’t help but sigh, slightly irritated at the way there hadn’t been a warning. The greeting seems like an assault to his senses and he has to work on loosening his tightened muscles before turning around to see Dustin running down the basement stairs. “How’s the campaign going?” The equally cheery smile on his friend’s face makes him force a smile of his own, it feels a bit stretched but at least he’s trying.

            Mike bites down the first couple of answers because they’re a bit too huffy and irritable sounding even in his own mind and simply keeps the smile on his lips while he taps his notebook with a pen steadily. The beat may be picking up in pace but he can’t help it.

            “…It’s a work in progress.” He finally is able to say slowly. It’s not the truth by a long shot. The actual truth is that he’d been blankly staring at the lined paper for hours now. He’d gone to jot something down and then had erased it just as quickly. Nothing was coming to him. Nothing. Nada. Zip. What kind of story could he pull out of his ass that would be interesting while not being anything remotely connected to the Upside Down and the gate and the demodogs…? Nothing. Nada. Zip.

            He misses the way Dustin’s smile fades just a little because Mike’s back to looking at the paper, the way the eraser has left some light pink grey marks because it was a cheap pencil and the eraser had crumpled at being used.

            It had pissed him off in the moment. But the moment had passed and he’d gotten distracted by the blanket fort that was still standing in the corner of the room. He’d been watching it yet not truly seeing it when Dustin had come barreling down, demanding his attention and providing a distraction all at the same time.

            “I’m sure it’ll be brilliant as always good sir, you aren’t our Paladin and resident DM for nothing.” Dustin says good-naturedly, and Mike glances back at him, feeling his lips being pulled into another smile. At least this one’s less forced but Mike can’t help but squirm in his seat, a bitter taste of shame and guilt tightening his throat. _What the hell is wrong with me_? He wishes he had his friend’s confidence in his own ability. But he’s got nothing. He simply feels tired and uninspired.

            “Thanks.” He closes the notebook and throws it on the table, knowing that Dustin won’t peek. It’s like a golden rule amongst them. None of them have ever peeked or tried to get a spoiler. It was better that way when they played. “Lucas isn’t with you?” At that, Dustin gives a long-suffering sigh and dramatically throws himself in _his_ chair. They each have their spots. It’s just what happens after years of friendships and long ( _like 10 to 12 hours long_ ) D&D campaigns.

            “He’s with Mad Max.”

            “Ah.” Mike worries his bottom lip with his teeth at that response. He’s apologized to the redhead finally for apparently being a _total asshat_ (Lucas’ words) and _yeah, you were a real douche Mike_ (Dustin’s helpful addition) as they explained that she totally kicked ass with the Demodogs when it had just been them and Steve. Mike’s still a bit lost as to how Steve had gotten pulled into the fray but he honestly doesn’t want to know or need to know.

            So yeah, he’d apologized. He’d officially welcomed her to the Party even though he’d thought it was all moot point by that time. She had to know she was one of them, right? But even Will had thought that it was something that Mike needed to do and so he did. It had been Will’s quiet confirmation that Max needed the official welcome from him and him alone more than Lucas’ and Dustin’s words that had made him feel ashamed with how he’d treated her.

            He sighed, the memory of it was still burned into his brain. It’d been clear from the way the redhead had looked at him with wariness and the way her eyes had widened at his apology and “welcome to the Party, if you want it that is” that he’d been a real dick. She hadn’t deserved that.

            The truth was, despite all his reluctance, Max had been an interesting addition to their group. Crazy and reckless at times but fun if he was really pressed to admitting it. Super skilled at the arcade games, he knows he’s no match for her. She got on his nerves at times but everyone did these days and he was realizing more and more that the problem was with him and not anyone else.

            Still, he worried at times about her being part of their group. There’s a tension between Lucas and Dustin that hadn’t been there before and Mike could say with 100% conviction that it’s due to the redhead. It reminds him of the fights he and Lucas got into when El first joined them.

            He’s not entirely sure he and Lucas have ever fully recovered from that with the way that Lucas had gravitated towards Dustin during those 353 days of hell. But maybe it’s more due to Mike having changed during that time. Maybe.

            Mike watches Dustin for a bit and hopes that it’s the latter vs. the former because he can already foresee some fights happening and he’s not sure he can handle the group breaking apart when they’re finally all together again. It’s why he’s trying so hard to not show the group how he’s struggling. They don’t need that stress right now. They especially don’t need it from him. “Weren’t they both coming over?”

            Dustin rolls his eyes. “Well yeah but I didn’t want to cramp his _style_ as he went to go pick up his little girlfriend and all that shit.”

            “If she overhears you calling her that, she’ll destroy you…”

            “You really think so?” The shit-eating grin on Dustin’s face is way too mischievous and Mike can’t help but chuckle at the sight of it.

            “It’s your life…” He warns instead. The topic moves to a safer one and Dustin starts to tell him all about the most recent comic he’d gotten. They go back and forth on which series would be best to share with El when they can visit her next until Will arrives, Jonathan in tow. That stops both Mike and Dustin who look at Will’s older brother with warring understanding and confusion at the same time. Will simply looks fondly exasperated as he states carefully that he’s fine and yes, he promises to wait here until Jonathan can pick him up. He doesn’t even duck when Jonathan ruffles his hair and wishes them all a fun afternoon. Still, none of them miss the way the older teen hesitates before leaving. It’s clear that he would rather stay then leave Will here. Mike glances at Will and offers him a little smile that’s returned.

            “We’re still waiting for the _love birrrds_.” Dustin purrs the r’s in the last word and Mike grimaces at the way it sounds.

            “Gross Dustin.”

            “What? What else would you call them?”

            “She’s totally going to kick your ass.” Mike says instead of answering. Will is silently laughing at both of them while completely agreeing with both of them. Love birds _is_ fitting and yet Max would kill Dustin for that description. She didn’t do romance and sappiness apparently. It just wasn’t her thing. The banter continues a bit until they hear the door upstairs open again and then there’s the thundering of footsteps as both Max and Lucas join them.

            It’s a bit loud and overwhelming to have all of them here now. It shouldn’t be. It should be normal and comforting but it isn’t. Mike takes a breath in and lets it out slowly, looking at the blanket fort in the corner as if it could help him take the feeling of claustrophobia away. It can’t but its soothing in the reminder that if he went there and picked up his supercomm, El would respond this time. She’d be here yet not and then the Party would really be complete. Its strange how much he wants them all physically together and yet right now feels suffocated by being so surrounded.

            There’s a bit of a verbal fight as they decide what they want to do altogether that Mike stays out of completely. He doesn’t care what they do. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s silent as they make the decision but no one comments on it.

            When Star Wars is decided upon, he simply nods and puts the VHS in before asking dutifully what snacks everyone wants. It all seems very mature and what a good host would do. The others have no idea that it’s a way for him to get some air for a bit, away from the noise and the rough housing. But that’s okay. Because he’s able to go back down with popcorn and chocolate bars ( _no muskateers because they’re fucking gross and only Dustin and Dart liked that crap_ ) that everyone scrambles to grab from him before they finally all settle the fuck down to watch the movie.

            He can adapt to this new normal. He can…really.

…

            It’s hours later that his parents cause the Party to disperse early and call Mike and Nancy to join them in the living room. He’s too shocked by the way they’ve basically in a more polite way, told his friends to fuck off so that they could have a family meeting to be angry at how they’d just overturned his plans for the day.

            Mike glances at Nancy to see if she has a better idea of what the hell their parents want. She sees it from the corner of her eyes and gives a minute shrug. Clearly, she’s just as clueless. It’s not completely surprising as she’s barely been in the house unless it’s to sleep. Even then, Mike’s not sure of how many nights she has actually slept at home.

            He hears her sometimes sneaking out from her window and meeting up with who he thinks must be Jonathan. He hasn’t seen Steve in awhile with Nancy ( _he seems to be around a lot with Dustin but that’s a whole other story he’s missed, apparently_ ) and he’s not sure when that ended and when the whole thing with Jonathan started. He’s pretty sure that Nancy isn’t going to tell him about it regardless so he hasn’t asked. If he had the energy, maybe there would be some hurt and bitterness at remembering the broken promise of keeping each other in the loop. But it’d be pretty hypocritical of him as he hasn’t been keeping his end of the bargain either.

            His attention gets pulled back to his mother who is looking at them with a curious expression on her face. He’s not quite sure what to make of it. It seems at once sad, anxious, frustrated and then it goes entirely blank when she catches him looking at her. Her eyes seem to be scanning them over while she steels herself to say _something_ and he tenses. It’s got to be bad if she’s sitting them down like this after intentionally leaving Holly with the Turners to have this conversation. It’s like she’s expecting them to react badly.

            ( _What could be so bad after surviving a pack of demodogs? Shut the fuck up.)_ He shakes his head as if that would make the thoughts lessen. It doesn’t.

            “I don’t know where to start…” His mother says glancing briefly at their father whose face is closed off. Not disinterested as his norm but completely devoid of emotion. Apparently, he’s not going to be of help.

            Mike starts to tap his foot nervously, his whole leg jiggling in an up-down motion that’s most likely causing his whole body to rock slightly where he sits. It normally drives Nancy right up the wall but right now she just stares at their parents with a slight pinched frown making its way on her face.

            The silence continues to stretch. Uncomfortable. Loud. It makes Mike’s skin itch and he wants to leave the table. He can’t breath properly and this is not how his Saturday was supposed to be going.

            “Mom, just spit it out already. You’re freaking me out…” Nancy finally pushes and it seems like it does the trick. Although after the words come out and Mike’s head starts to buzz and he can’t hear anymore, not really, he wishes Nancy had kept her big mouth shut.

 

 Tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

             Mike couldn’t have told anyone how he’s gotten to where he is now. He barely feels his body; it’s physicality like a distant string keeping him grounded as his mind continues to spin out of control. He knows he’s breathing because he hears the way his lungs continue to suck air in long loud bursts and it should hurt, probably _does_ hurt, but he just can’t feel it right now.

            He feels nauseous. He feels dizzy. He feels hot. Then cold. Then simply numb.

            He’s looking over the edge of the cliff. They’d said after Will’s disappearance and the finding of his _fake_ dead body, that they’d make this place safer. They lied. Or forgot. Because Mike is back on the edge of the Quarry, right where he’d jumped off already in what seems to be so long ago, a different life, a different Mike…

            There’s some dust and pebbles that has already fallen, disrupted by the way he’d just run up and then stopped, frozen on the edge of the precipice.

            _“Mike, we love you…”_ Bull shit. Bull shit. It was all such BULL SHIT! He’s watching as the dust that didn’t get thrown right over the edge settles back down around and on his shoes. The dust and rocks that went overboard are too far to be seen. He wonders how quickly they’ll fall into the water and mix there, disappearing in the water’s tumultuous depth. _“… you’ll always be our son_.”

            He’s crying he thinks. He’s not sure. That should be scary but the way his mother’s voice keeps repeating the information over and over, playing like a broken record in his head is scarier. _“miscarriage…aunt…adopted… twin…no more lies…”_ It made so much sense that it hurt.

            He couldn’t fucking breath.

            And the scream that’s been lodged inside of him, stuck, seems to be making it’s way out of his throat. He wants to let it go. Wants to watch it erupt from deep inside of him and then follow it right over the edge. Jump. Then it’d be over. It’d be all over.

            “ _I’m sorry, Michael. Michael, I’m so sorry…”_ He can see in the back of his mind her hands reaching for him as he stands up. She’s crying. His father – no – uncle stays still, unfazed at what’s happening. Nancy seems frozen. He has to escape from this nightmare but besides standing up, he can’t seem to move. He doesn’t know where to go. Home isn’t really home. It’s a lie. It’s been a lie all his life. It’s his father’s voice – fuck no – uncle’s voice that makes him run. It’s so quiet and calm. Dismissive. _“I was never in agreement to this plan.”_

            In Mike’s head, the words so quickly get changed to… _I never wanted you_. Like that hadn’t been made clear in all those years of his father making quiet comments, or his overall lack of care, lack of interest in everything Mike liked to do. But the man had never directly and verbally confirmed it. And now he had.

            Mike had run out the kitchen and out the front door and hadn’t stopped until he literally had no more ground left to run. He’d heard his name being called out, screamed out actually but they’d eventually faded. He was alone now.

            His leg muscles twitched.

            It’d be so easy…

            _Twin._

_Twin. Twin. Twin. Twin. Twin. Twin. Twin._

            His stomach heaves and all of a sudden his physical body brings him back to the here and now in one loud retching noise. It forces him back a couple of steps and then he’s on his hands and knees, the scant remnants of his lunch coming back up forcibly – it’s acid burning all the way up. It seems to take hours for his stomach to stop rebelling. Even when it’s been emptied out, it still tightens and he keeps gagging, sobbing through each roll until finally, it all stops. He can now crawl away, just enough so that when he lays down, he isn’t going to be seeped in his own vomit and bile.

            He has a twin. A twin that had stayed with his real mom. His biological mom. CPS had gotten involved _somehow,_ had tracked them down _somehow_ after years of having no contact because his twin needed to be placed immediately. They didn’t know about Mike. They didn’t know. But the fact that his twin was going to be placed with the Wheelers had forced his… whatever the fuck they were… to tell Mike the truth. Apparently, they were identical twins. Apparently, their lies of the past would have been blown to pieces at the first sight of his twin. Apparently, the call from CPS had occurred days ago. It had caused fights between them as they tried to decide the best way to handle the situation. Had he heard them? Maybe. Maybe not.

            He’d fought demodogs and bad men…. This should have been nothing. But there had been something about the way the story was told and little details shared that is making him wonder ( _know)_ with muted horror that his mom, his real mom, had to be part of the MK Ultra experiment same as El’s mother had. She’d somehow realized what was going to happen or had seen it (… _the timeline wasn’t fucking clear and he was the one putting the pieces together and maybe he was fucking insane and it was all in his head and it wasn’t actually true and he’d wake up now. He’d really like to fucking wake up)…_ but she’d called her sister all paranoid about how men were after her sons and they needed to be separated and had convinced her grieving sister who’d just lost her own baby to take one of hers. Karen chose. They’d cut all ties after that because, because, because… ( _because she’d known about the bad men and she hid. She hid physically but couldn’t hide from the fear and drowned herself in alcohol and she died. She’s dead and I’ll never meet her. I’ll never meet her…)_ The bile rises again and he feels himself choking on it.

            _It could have been me._

_I could have been El…_

…

            Nancy takes the information in and feels the shock settling in while her mind races. It’s a lot to take in. She doesn’t honestly know where to start. That her mother had a sister, that her mother had miscarried her actual son and taken one of her sister’s twin boys as her own… As what? A fucking replacement? She does the math and thinks, _I was three at the time._ Memories surge of going to the hospital to meet her new baby brother. Had that even happened? Had she created those memories? She doesn’t understand. None of this makes any sense to her. She feels the need to get up and search for evidence that would prove that everything she’s just heard is a really sick elaborate prank. Didn’t they have pictures of Mike’s birth? She doesn’t move to go look for them though. She can’t.

            She feels a bit sick. She feels a bit faint. She startles when Mike gets up but still feels stuck where she sits, reeling as she takes it all in.

            It’s only when his chair falls to the ground and he’s gone, gone, gone… that the adrenaline kicks her own ass out of her chair and she starts to run after him, yelling his name. She knows her mother is doing the same but Mike is long gone. He’s had another growth spurt and his long legs give him the advantage. She feels tears prickle at her eyes and she feels lost.

            She’s not entirely sure where he’s going. But she knows who might and so she turns back on her heels and pushes past her mother. She goes straight to the supercomm that’s still in his room and turns it on. She hopes it’s the right station. It’s got to be one of the boys or El or even Max… any of them will know better than she does as to where Mike will be heading.

            “Code red, code red… fuck this is a code red…” She chants brokenly into it.

…

            He’s sitting now, legs over the edge, swinging gently with gravity tugging him down, down, down. He’s scooted closer but not enough for the tug to be enough to pull him over. He’d have to be more of an active participant and he shivers. He’s not there yet. But there’s part of him, the dark parts under the anger that are ready. That is there, whispering at him.

            More like gnawing at his defenses.

            He’d be done and it’d be over. All of it would be over.

            Even El…

            At the thought of her, it brings up the sound of her voice and it sounds so real that he wants to look around him, to see if she’s actually there. She’s not. He knows she’s not because she’s not allowed out of the cabin yet. They had at least three quarters of a year to go yet if not more before she gets green lit to be free. Truly free.

            The back of his shoe connects harder to the side of the cliff and debris sprays down in a huff. He feels it more than he sees it. It’s dark now. And getting a bit cold. Too cold for what he’s wearing. It keeps him here and not disconnected like before.

            His thoughts are still racing though and part of him is yelling loudly to get a grip, to get up, to go home, and to realize that it’s not a big deal. So what if his whole life is a lie? It doesn’t change the facts that he has a home, that he has friends, that he has a family ( _albeit fucked up_ ), and he’s never been a lab rat.

            The other part of him is wailing that it’s all a lie and what if _she’s_ dead because the bad men had figured it out. Or worse, what if she’s dead because she’d been tired of hiding and fighting the inevitable? She’d given up and given him and his twin up. And soon Hawkins would be swarmed all over again and he’d be snapped up and the whole shit show would start again and _I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t, I just can’t…_

            El’s voice rings out again. And she sounds scared as if she knows that the darkness is bubbling over, tightening around his heart and making all his muscles ache. It would be so easy…

            …just one hard shove forward.

            “ _MIKE!_ ” She’s there all of a sudden but she’s not alone and other voices are breaking the silence and the fog. They’re all united, calling his name, flashlights making a crazy dance in the foliage before they break through onto the dirt road.          

            He thought that he was empty, dried out from the crying and the vomiting from before. But as he sees them all running towards him, El all but launching herself onto him, gripping him hard and pulling him away from the precipice, he can’t help but fall back into her embrace and cry again, harder then before. Way harder.

            He feels the impact as the others join in, barely slowing down as they barrel into the two of them. Different arms wrap themselves around him and the darkness that had been about to spill over is swallowed back down. It’s pushed way back down and he just holds on to them, mainly her, but all of them. They’re anchoring him and this is what lets the first voice in his head win.

            He’s survived so much more. This is nothing.

 

Tbc


	4. Chapter 3

            Dustin explains of course when they become untangled finally. He’s not their Bard for nothing. “Nancy called a code red, man. Said you’d gotten some shit family news and you’d taken off.” Naming her, Mike winces and so does Dustin but for an entirely different reason. “I should call her actually… She, Jonathan, and Steve are driving downtown looking for you.” He jogs to where he’d thrown his backpack with his supercomm all the while still muttering to himself.

            Mike doesn’t hear what he says because El is tugging at his face so that they’re back to facing each other. She’s inspecting him quietly for injuries, her eyes wide and worried. She slowly uses her too long sleeve to wipe his cheeks dry. The touch is so gentle and he leans into it. For her sake, he tries to give a reassuring smile.

            “Mike…” She starts quietly and he shakes his head. He doesn’t even know where to start. He’s not even sure he wants to share all of it. Because what if it _is_ all in his head about his biological mom being part of the study? And what if she had been? He clearly hadn’t inherited any super powers. What was the point of sharing a wild conspiracy theory and getting them all worked up when it could be nothing? He could wait to gather some proof before telling them.

            Plus, and at this insidious voice he has to squirm a little, sharing all of why he is panicking would include admitting how many times he had missed Party gatherings during the 353 days because he had been researching Hawkins Lab on his own. How many hours had he spent at the library reviewing the newspaper articles for any information on the lab, on Dr. Brenner, and even Terry Ives along with the others who had all taken part in the original studies? Too many and he’d never really kept track of those particular hours unlike the days spent missing El.

            He hadn’t shared that he’d known that information when El had opened up about her trip to her mom and then to Chicago. He hadn’t been able to get past the idea that El had been so close to him during all those days and that he’d nearly lost her for good because she had left to find her mom and her sister and had nearly chosen to stay with them and not return. He had tried not to let that information hurt. It wasn’t fair to her. So he’d swallowed it down and there’d never been another time that seemed good to bring up what he did know. Was now really any good? _Better not go there_ …

            Lucas fidgets, glancing back to where Dustin is before looking back at Mike. “They were going downtown in case you went to the arcade. We tried to tell them that it was stupid. You’d never go there upset…” He’s explaining because it’s probably the only thing that he can think to do right now. He’s never seen Mike quite like this and it’s freaking him out. He doesn’t know how to fix it and demanding to know what family shit has been divulged seems like a poor choice right now. His wrist rocket seems useless, heavy where it lays on him. In some ways, he almost wishes it was another demodog that they were facing. At least then, he’d know what to do. “… why didn’t you call us…?” The question seems more accusatory out loud than how it sounded in his head. He shakes his head as if to say, _not how I meant it to come out, man. But shit, you scared us_.

            “…” Mike opens his mouth but closes it again. What is there to say? Too much and too little. He simply shrugs and wants nothing more than to bury his face in El’s neck, breathe her in, and never move again. When he finds his voice, the words that come out are to check on the others. It’s safer that way. Less vulnerable and more the role that he’s used to playing with all of them. “Will and Max didn’t come out with you guys, right? You guys didn’t split up to search for me, right?” It’s suddenly really important for him to know. El shouldn’t even be here. Will definitely shouldn’t be off gallivanting in the woods alone and Max… well Max has the psychopath for a stepbrother. And he has a feeling that there’s more to that story. Like maybe a psychopathic stepfather too and he really hopes that they haven’t pulled her into this search party only for her to get in trouble because of him.

            Lucas and El exchange looks and she shakes her head first, still watching Mike with that intense look in her eyes. “No.” Lucas says finally and it’s in that moment that Dustin rejoins them. “Max has a pretty strict curfew in place since well, you know,” And Mike does know so he simply nods and Lucas continues. “…and Will…” He trails off and shrugs. “We didn’t tell them. They don’t know. We didn’t want to worry them. We figured if we didn’t find you here then we’d call them for reinforcement but…”

            “That’s good…” Mike interrupts. He’d rather they didn’t know at this point.

            “So, the awkward as hell team is on their way.” Dustin breaks in. “Wanna fill us in on what’s actually happening before they get here?” He goes to sit Indian style on the ground as if it’s fucking story time at the library and Mike can feel Lucas tense up beside him and shoot Dustin a look.

            “Not really…” Mike manages. He knows he’ll need to. It’s not like it’s going to be a secret. And unbidden there’s the memory of “ _Friends don’t lie_ ” and _twin, twin, twin, twin,_ floating in his head. He sighs and his chest hurts still. He sits up straighter, removing himself from El’s loose hold. “It’s… complicated and stupid.” He sees them exchange another look and Dustin seems to be gearing up to say something to dispute it. His friend doesn’t disappoint him either.

            “Nancy seemed pretty upset for something stupid.” It’s pointed out gently but the rebuke in the words is clear. The look on his face also clearly states the unspoken; _You look pretty upset for it to be something stupid._

            Mike opens his mouth to just say it. Maybe not all of it because he still can’t force his thoughts to slow down enough to feel like he could share the news coherently. But what comes from him is more of a tired and broken admission and less the jumbled explanation of what actually is happening. “I don’t want to go ho-“ His voice breaks on the word _home_. “I don’t want to go back there.” He says instead of finishing the word. It’s stupid. He’s being dramatic. But he just can’t. Not yet.

            “Okay…Okay… We got this.” Lucas says, hands going into the air in an appeasing manner. “You don’t have to. At least not tonight.” He’s hooking his pointer finger into the edge of his bandanna that’s tied to his head, as if adjusting it will help him come up with a solution. “You could stay with me or Dustin…”

            “Or me.” El says softly.

            “Yeah,” Dustin gives El a crazy look. “Like Hopper would ever agree to that _one_ with the ways you guys totally make googly eyes at each other.”

            “Googly eyes?” The fact that Mike doesn’t react and just lets the comment pass freaks Lucas out more. He’s weirdly grateful that Dustin continues as if everything is normal and explains the concept of googly eyes to El gently. Although he can’t help but roll his eyes a little at his friend too. What the fuck, honestly. Googly eyes? So not the right timing for that sort of shit.

            He sighs and takes the moment to observe Mike in the darkness. The guy looks pale as shit but he’s always been on the pale side. His eyes are tracking them but they seem unfocused as if he’s not truly present.

            Lucas wasn’t the one who’d gotten Nancy’s frantic code red. El had which is probably the only reason the girl is out here with them and not in her cabin in the woods where she’s supposed to be. Thankfully, ( _as in, this is probably the only reason why Hopper isn’t going to kill all of them_ ) Hopper had still been at work AND she’d told Nancy which station to switch to in order to relay the message to Dustin instead of simply running out on her own to search for Mike. Dustin had heard Nancy out and then had contacted Lucas who simply hadn’t been expecting any sort of news from his friends until tomorrow.

            It was fucked up in a way. They’d all _just_ been at Mike’s house earlier that day to hang out when the Wheeler parents had apologetically but firmly asked them to leave. It was unusual, sure, but Lucas had shrugged it off because compared to a lot of other shit, parents telling them to get lost was pretty tame and normal.

            When he’d heard Dustin’s code red, he’d gone into high alert. What could have possibly happened? What could have sent Mike running out of his house like that and upset Nancy to the point of reaching out to _them_ for help in finding him? It seemed too soon to have to be dealing with more supernatural shit but that would be just there luck. Yet that hadn’t seemed right either. The Wheeler parents had never really been involved in all that crap.

            No, they’d always seemed happily oblivious and just _so_ normal. So perfect. Like a family in a magazine. The house was always clean but warm and clearly happily lived in. The fridge was always stocked and there was always the inviting smell of home cooked meals lingering in the air. It’s why they went to Mike’s place so often above the others’ homes. Not that his own wasn’t normal or nice. But his pain in the ass little sister made it so less convenient. Holly was quiet and shy and usually disappeared when they arrived and Nancy usually gave them a wide berth if she was home at all. Mike was so lucky in that department.

            So Lucas’ mind had reviewed the more normal options that could explain the weirdness of the situation. Divorce had come first but he’d shaken it out of his head. Yeah, divorce happened but it was still sorta rare, especially in Hawkins. Still, Max was living and breathing proof that divorces happened but… Mike’s family was _perfect_. His mom made sure that they came across that way to the outside world and he couldn’t even believe that Mike’s parents would contemplate divorce. Especially with Holly being so young. So no, Lucas had shaken the idea out of his head and continued thinking about other options as he’d pedaled hard and quickly to keep up with Dustin. He’d barely even noticed when El had shot out onto their path and jumped on the back of Dustin’s bike.

            Maybe the Wheelers were thinking of moving? That would definitely be upsetting. Although why would they move? Financial losses? But it all seemed so weirdly common place and yeah, upsetting but… There’s something about it all that makes him feel like it isn’t that. If it had been any of those reasons, Mike would have just called them vs. running away. He also would be telling them now instead of simply staying mute on the situation. Lucas knows his friend. He knows how Mike’s brain works. Yeah, the guy could get upset but he’d always been able to move past the emotions to start working out a plan. And they worked well as a group because they’d learned to solve problems out loud, each coming up with a piece of the solution. But they can’t do that if Mike isn’t going to tell them what’s wrong. There’s a fear under the confusion that’s warning Lucas that maybe Mike’s silence is because there isn’t a solution. There’s nothing to fix. There’s simply a situation that they’re going to have to adjust to.

            Lucas nudges into his friend and those unfocused eyes come to rest on him. “Come on…” He shrugs off his jacket and places it loosely over Mike’s shoulders. It’s slightly too small for Mike’s latest growth spurt but at least its warm. “The dirt’s cold as shit.” He offers Mike a hand up and it’s taken. Unspoken between them is the agreement that it’s okay if Mike can’t put things into words right now.

            Lucas isn’t about to go digging for the explanation. Not yet anyway. He simply grips his friend’s hand and pulls him up to his feet and into a half hug. “You’re fucking freezing by the way.” They’ll get through whatever it is like they’ve always done before.

            It’s what their party was about.

Being there for one another no matter what.

…

            It turns out that the awkward trio, as Dustin has dubbed them, has been followed by one Chief Inspector Hopper who is not looking at all pleased to find El outside. She and her adoptive father exchange thunderous looks that seem to promise longer more verbal explanations as to why the #1 Don’t Be Stupid rule has gotten broken once again. It gets pushed aside though as Nancy climbs out of Jonathan’s car to pull her brother into her arms and into a tight hug.

            Biology or not, the twerp is her brother and she’s going to make sure he knows it.

            He takes the hug, doesn’t even try to squirm out of the hold like he normally would have and so she’s able to tell him in hushed urgent hisses that he’s not to run off like that ever again and didn’t he know how worried she’d be? He’s passively listening to her and nodding here and there. But she’s not sure how much of it he’s actually taking in.

            The first thing he does say when he finally speaks is that he doesn’t want to go back. He can’t say the word home and it breaks her heart a little. Lucas is right next to her brother, Dustin on his other side like they’re ready to peel him away from Nancy and take him into protective custody.

            “He can stay with me.”

            “Or me.” They’re practically tripping over one another to give Mike a place to stay. It’s sweet how much they care.

            “Mike…” She starts, knowing that he’s not going to like the answer. “Mom is…” He flinches at the word and then he’s pushing his way out of her arms. “Mike, come on listen. She’s losing her mind…”

            “She’s not my mom!” And everyone freezes, watching Nancy and Mike in wide-eyed confusion. She’s a little surprised that he hasn’t told them yet. Not that she’s taken the time to fill either Jonathan or Steve on what had driven her to reach out to them, pleading for them to help her find Mike. But that feels different somehow.

            She sighs but doesn’t know what would be the most helpful. She wants to go home. She wants to take Mike back home. It’s the one solution that keeps coming to her. To bring him home and show him beyond any doubt that they’re still family.

            “Mike…”

            “No. You heard them, Nancy.” His voice sounds tight; the words starting to be pushed out at a speed that makes them run together. “They’re not my parents. You’re not my sister. I don’t want to go back, I can’t.” A little manic. A little pleading. More than a little hysterical.

            “Woah… okay…” It’s Hopper’s voice that cuts in before the hysteria can completely take over Mike. “Kid, breathe…” Mike has never found the man to be a gentle comforting presence so he’s unprepared for how Hopper’s face is suddenly the one he’s looking into. He’s also unprepared for the way the voice is slow and steady and the large hand is tapping a tempo into his chest. “In… out…Just breathe… in… out.” The mantra is repeated a couple of times before Hopper seems satisfied. “That’s it, kid. That’s it.” The hand moves from his chest to rest on his shoulder briefly. Just a quick squeeze and then it’s let loose.

            Hopper isn’t looking at him anymore; instead he seems to straighten and turn at the same time, looking over everyone else’s expressions. “Now someone please explain _one at a fucking time_ what the hell is going on?”

            Nancy glances at him but Mike stays mute. The others clearly don’t know and so they can’t help her in explaining the situation. It’s all on her and she hates it. She shifts uncomfortably before sighing.

            “Our…” and stumbles, internally cursing before just plowing through with what she was going to say originally. “Our parents sat us down today for a family meeting. CPS…”

            “Child Protective Services,” Dustin explains quietly, probably catching El’s growing confusion as she makes her way to Mike’s side. She still seems confused and Nancy can tell that Dustin is ready to add more about what exactly CPS is and what they do. If she lets him, he’d give very detailed information on the organization that would completely derail the conversation.

            “Yes,” Nancy continues trying not to feel frustrated. “That. They contacted us to let us know that mom’s sister had passed away and we’re the only living family of her son.” She pauses and she knows that Mike’s friends are watching him while the remainder of the group is watching her. She knows she’s watching Mike who is looking at the ground; all muscles tense and shoulders drooped. She sees as El closes her hands around his and how he doesn’t overtly respond to the touch. “…who is Mike’s identical twin. I don’t know… it’s… fucked up. And really personal…but that’s why Mike said that our parents aren’t his.” She’s not explaining this very well. She knows she isn’t. But it isn’t easy and she just wishes that Mike would at least look at her.

            “Well they’re not…” He finally says quietly.

            “But…” Dustin starts, frown in place, both hands clutching at his hat. “… well shit… so identical twins, separated at birth… why… how?!”

            “This is fucked up…” Lucas just says slowly, quietly.

And that about sums that up.

…

            A plan is eventually created and agreed upon. It helps that the Chief of Police is on their side and can call a near hysterical Karen to explain that _yes, Mike has been found. Yes, he’s safe and sound. No, taking him home right this moment doesn’t seem like the best option. Let him sleep it off. Let him digest the news. I’ll bring him home first thing tomorrow. I promise._ And what can Karen do except accept this? Nancy at least promises to come straight home.

            Lucas and Dustin are dropped off to their respective homes and they each give Mike one last long look and a shoulder nudge before they jump out of the Chief’s vehicle and grab their bikes from the back. It was decided that staying at the cabin, giving Mike more distance from his home, is the best option for tonight. Hopper looks at him as they pass the Wheeler residence to get to Lucas’ and just the way the kid is holding himself and refusing to look out the window makes him realize that it wasn’t _just_ the best option but the only option. He sighs and curses internally and wonders when Hawkins became such a hotbed for shitty situations. And why are these kids always right there in the middle, unable to have just a normal childhood?

            The rest of the ride is quiet and neither El nor Mike make a fuss as Hopper sets out the ground rules for this impromptu sleep over. Mike is to stay on the couch, El in her bed. There’s not even a flush or glare from the teen and El seems to be just as flustered by his non-reaction to know what to do or say in response to these ground rules that don’t make any sense to her in the first place.

            Its how Mike finds himself in a make shift bed on the couch in the cabin that El and Hopper call home an hour or so later. They’re all supposed to be in bed and sleeping. That is the agreed upon plan after all but Mike can’t sleep. So he’s back to watching the shadows while his mind continues to buzz so loudly that he doesn’t hear the soft footsteps that are making their way towards him.

            He does hear the way she whispers his name. He does feel the way she slips under the blanket and the way she wraps herself around him as he shifts to make more room for her. She’s warm and soft and he feels his eyes close again because he can’t cry anymore. He doesn’t want to.

            They fall asleep eventually. And the sight of them early the next morning is enough to tug at Hopper’s old heartstrings. So much so that Hopper can’t even find it in himself to wake them up and ground at least his _daughter_ who is clearly the instigator in this scenario. He simply sighs and makes himself a cup of coffee. He’ll get around to separating and scaring the hell out of them ( _most likely just the Wheeler kid but even then, Hopper feels like it’s less fear he instills and more, well like a mess of complicated emotions. But he has to at least_ try _to act like the threatening and intimidating father figure with his daughter’s first boyfriend._ ) after he finishes his coffee and makes them all breakfast.

            It’s gonna be a long fucking day.

 

Tbc


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Richie finally arrives...

            Mike is back at the house that has been his home since infancy. He’s looking at it with new eyes and he wonders vaguely what his twin will be like. Dustin had looked up various studies about twins, separated ones, and how uncannily similar they ended up being like. Not just physically but even in their likes and dislikes, the jobs they had, the way they dressed, the people they ended up with. He’d shared it with awkward enthusiasm as if he was unsure how the research would be received but hopeful that Mike would see the gesture as what it was. A way for his friend to show he wanted to help and be there.

            Mike wonders if that’ll be true for him. He wonders if his twin will think that this place is comfortable, but a bit too well-laid out. The way it has been decorated is meant more for outsiders to believe that this is a perfect family. In some ways they are ( _were)_ and in some ways, they’re truly not.

            Holly wraps her arms around Mike’s legs and he startles before looking down at her. Before Nancy had become a teenager and started dating, he’d been closest to her. Nancy had been cool, or at least cool _er_ , and willing to play with him and his friends from time to time when she hadn’t been too busy with her own friends. Dustin still brings up the memory of Nancy dressing up for one of their D&D campaigns as a clear indicator that she _is_ by far the coolest sibling that they know of ( _it doesn’t hurt that Dustin has a massive crush on Nancy that’s lasted for like years now_ ). Nancy had also managed to convince Mike to play _her_ games which is the ONLY reason he even knew _anything_ about make-up and playing house. Once she’d gotten into boys though, they’d become distant and at times, down right adversarial with one another, pitting their parents against the other to get the two off their own backs when it best suited them.

            In contrast to Nancy, Holly had always been too little, too breakable, and entirely not interested in what he was interested in for it to be really fun to interact with her. However, in the past handful of months he’d gotten to an age where he’d been trusted to babysit Holly from time to time and he’d found enjoyment in reading to her and watching over her as she starts to form her own personality. Still, he wouldn’t say they were close per se. They also weren’t adversarial. Merely siblings living with one another with 10 years separating them.

            “Hey Hols…” He greets her with a smile and he pulls her up and into his arms in response to her silent request to be picked up. She’d been told that she was getting a new older brother. She hadn’t been told why. Just that she was getting one and that he’d look a lot like Mike. Mike hadn’t been there for that particular conversation. He’d seen the aftermath though.    

            Holly seemed confused and kept following him as if he’d disappear to be replaced by this “new brother”. It didn’t matter that everyone kept telling her that this was not the case. The parents, well mainly Karen, ( _his heart kept wanting to call her mom, his mind kept correcting it to Aunt or Karen. All of them felt false. He just didn’t know how or what to call them)_ kept telling her it was exciting. Wasn’t she excited to get another older brother? Holly would smile and ask some more questions but then she’d get all quiet and look for Mike, find him, and then not let him go.

            Mike figures it has more to do with the uncomfortable tension that is currently filling the house. And maybe the fact that Mike hadn’t been home for the last handful of days. He’d only come back in the last two after Karen had put her foot down and demanded he come back. So yeah, Mike knows he’s playing a huge role in Holly’s anxiety and is trying to be more patient and play with her more to make up for it.

            He doesn’t know what else to do.

            Her chubby little arms weave themselves around his neck all the while her face buries itself in the crook of his neck. Her breathing is hot and humid and not quite comfortable. She has a cold and her stuffy nose makes it so that she’s breathing through her mouth. A literal mouth-breather. It’s kinda gross actually.

            He also has a sinking feeling that her hands haven’t been washed since breakfast and that she’s leaving all sorts of traces from her syrup covered blueberry pancakes on his shirt. It makes him make a slight face but he doesn’t say anything beyond shift her weight in his arms so that both of them are more comfortable. He can also turn away this way and ignore the look on Karen’s face as she watches them interact.

            “…want me to read you a story or play a game?” He asks instead. She seems to ponder the choices before softly saying story. Then more like her actual self, she demands that it’s a story from her new book and that he make all the voices for each and every character.

            Nancy is watching them as well from another corner of the room with a curious expression on her face. She’s been home every day since Mike has come back, clearly making herself available in case he wants to talk or something. Mike doesn’t but he also hasn’t told her to get lost. Although he wonders if it would help if he did. If everyone keeps acting fucking weird, it’s no wonder to him that Holly thinks he’s gonna up and disappear. It’s no wonder he also can’t fucking relax and figure out a new normal.

            But that’s the anger inside of him bubbling back into life and it’s really not fair to any of them so he’s been keeping a lid on it for now.

            “You gonna join us?” He asks instead and Nancy blinks as if his words snap her from wherever she’d been in her head. She nods though, smiling and gets up to follow them to the living room. Normally, he’d have gone to the basement but today is the day that CPS is coming and everyone seems to want to stay close enough to the front door for when they do arrive. Well, everyone but Ted Wheeler who couldn’t be bothered to take the day off. He’s at work, slated to come home at his usual time.

            “I can even help out with the voices.” Nancy offers.

            “You’re not as good though!” Holly’s voice is too sweet to be offended by the bluntly shared observation. Especially since it’s true. Mike can’t help but chuckle at the face Nancy makes and turns quickly to protect Holly from getting her hair ruffled in retaliation.

            “Well fine then… I’ll just listen.” Nancy mutters in a huffy voice as Holly giggles at the way she’s swung away from Nancy’s threatening fingers. Her grip on Mike’s neck tightens and he swings her in another loop before sitting on the couch and settling her by his side. Nancy gives him the book and really, it’s no surprise when Holly pushes the book aside to make room for her to sit directly in his lap. It’s after all the best seating to be able to see the pictures drawn out on every page.

            They’re on the second story of these shortened and Disneyfied fairy tales when the doorbell rings. Mike glances at Nancy, eyes wide and feels all of a sudden really cold, while the palms of his hands start to sweat. Holly looks up and wiggles down from his lap until her feet touches the ground. “Is it him? Is he here?” She whispers, looking a little like she wants to run towards the door to find out but also like she wants to just stay where she is and not move.

            “I dunno Hols… probably. Wanna go check it out?” She looks scared and excited and offers him a hand before nodding. Well, fuck. Now he can’t just stay on the couch and watch it all unfold from afar. He gets up and lets her lead him.

            The door is already open and he hears Karen’s voice politely ushering people in. The first thing he sees is a tired looking woman, professionally dressed but wrinkled looking as if the travel had been long. It probably has. Mike frowns. He’d never thought to ask where exactly his twin was coming from. It must be far away though because it’s been nearly a week since he was told about everything. He hears the woman thank Karen cheerfully though and waving someone in beside her.

            “He _does_ look like you…” Holly whispers again. It’s a louder whisper though. Loud enough for the lanky teen with unruly hair to look up and give a snorted chuckle.

            “Or he looks like _me_ , short stuff.” The sound of his own voice coming from someone else’s body makes his hair stand on end and Holly hides behind Mike’s legs at realizing that she’s been heard. “Yowza… they weren’t kidding with the whole twin shit. Although what the fuck… no glasses? Really?” Mike can only blink at the other teenager as they look each other over. Both of them ignore the CPS worker that is desperately hissing _Richie_ in an admonishing tone. “I thought we were identical.” So his name is Richie…

            It sounds vaguely familiar and Mike knows that he’d most likely been told his twin’s name. Had promptly forgotten it in a desperate attempt to make this less real. But now there is no going back. Richie is very real and very much here.

            He’s not prepared for the way Richie takes two steps forward with his long legs and simply pins Mike’s face between his hands. And Mike’s trapped because he can’t take a step back and away. Not with the way Holly is holding onto his legs and still hiding behind them. “I’m seriously fucking tripping man. This is crazy. Like top grade, put me in a fucking loony bin grade crazy.” There’s a weird accent tacked onto the words that hadn’t been present before. Mike can’t even place it but he does try and jerk his head back.

            “What the hell?!”

            “Indeed. My thoughts exactly, good sir.” This accent is again different. Maybe British? Dustin does a better imitation of the accent by far and Mike makes a face at the way he’s being manhandled. There’s no other way to describe the way Richie still has him effectively pinned and is looking him up and down. “Total mama’s boy, am I right short stuff?” He finally mutters, letting go of Mike’s face and dropping down to his knees to look directly at Holly. Holly squeaks and runs to hide behind Nancy in reaction to the sudden attention. She keeps an eye on Richie though by peering out from between Nancy’s legs while Nancy puts a hand out on a nearby wall to keep her balance that has been made shaky at the sudden use of her body as a shield.

            “… what?!” Mike exclaims. Mama’s boy? What the fuck… Richie seems to be a bit perplexed by Holly’s reaction and is slow to glance back up at Mike. He does though and pushes his glasses back up his nose before standing.

            Mike is suddenly aware that the glasses have been broken and are repaired with what seems to be old tape. He’s also able to see other differences that before hadn’t been apparent to him because of how freaky it had been to see the ways the two of them _were_ indeed identical.

            Richie’s hair seems a bit wilder, although he wonders if part of that is due to when the last time the teen had bothered to both wash and brush his hair. It’s also cut a bit shorter than Mike’s is currently. He’s wearing this absurdly brightly colored Hawaiian shirt over a plain wrinkled t-shirt and baggy shorts. The sneakers he’s in are dirty as all get out and the socks seem like they’ve also seen better days. He’s thinner than Mike and there’s a bandage wrapped around his hand, and another on his wrist. He’s not sure how high the latter one goes because Richie’s long sleeves get in the way. There are the remnants of a bruise on his cheek, muddled colors of fading purple, yellow, and greens just below his right eye, partly hidden by the thickness of his glasses.

            “Well she obviously dresses you…” The uninjured hand waves at Mike up and down. It makes Mike blink and his attention is drawn away from the bruise.

            “And you obviously dress in the fucking dark…” He retorts without thinking and hears his name being called out sharply while Richie’s eyes widen comically and a shit-eating grin pulls at his lips. Like the insult totally makes his day. He comically puts his hands on his heart and fakes a swoon.

            “Oh we are _totally_ twins, Mikey-baby. This is going to be awesome…”

            Again, all Mike can think is… _what the fuck_ … and that Dustin’s studies are wrong. So very fucking wrong. The way his cheek is pinched and he has to swat the intrusive hand away does nothing to change his mind on this.

            They are _nothing_ alike.

…

            Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Max are pressed up against Lucas’ bedroom window that conveniently looks out to the Wheeler’s house. Being neighbors has its perk, especially when they’re all anxiously awaiting for Mike’s twin to arrive. They’d all decided, without even needing to plan it, to skip school today in order to be close by and it had been easy to sneak back into Lucas’ house once it was clear that his parents were safely on their way to work and his sister was at school. One by one, they’d made calls to the school, faking to be each other’s parents calling them out sick. Once that had been taken care of, they’d started taking turns keeping a look out with Lucas’ binoculars. Or well, Lucas had used the binoculars while the rest had just looked outside with their own eyes and provided updates.

            When they’d heard the car pulling up the driveway though, they’d all scrambled from their scattered positions in his room to look out together.

            “Holy shit, shit, shit…” Dustin breathes out from where he’s kneeling on the ground.

            “Yeah,” Lucas mutters. “Look at that bean pole…” Max makes a humming noise of assent. From where they can see the teen getting out of the car, he has a familiar body type. Tall and lanky, as if recently stretched out and not quite used to the height. There’s an awkwardness in the way he walks with his shoulders just slightly hunched over. He has the right hair color but…

            Lucas grumbles for his fallen binoculars and is barely able to get better details on the face before the guy disappears into the house.

            “This is for real guys!” Dustin says again. “Did you _see_ him?!” He dissolves into another long string of hissed shits.

            “We’ve known it was for real for days now, dumb ass.” Lucas retorts, rolling his eyes.

            “Yeah but…” Dustin trails off not knowing how to put into words how real it now feels while before it had just seemed like a goddamn TV show. A dream. An elaborate prank even. After all, April Fools day was only a couple of days away. And stranger things had happened to them by far.

            Max is still frowning at the window even though there’s nothing to see anymore. Will is the first to move away and he goes back to sitting at Lucas’ desk where his sketchbook is still open. He’d been sketching their Party, a more realistic version of all of them now that he knows what El looks like. He’d left a pretty large portion blank as if knowing he’d have to come back and potentially add a 7th member. The empty white space seems so large and looming.

            “I wonder how he’s doing…” He starts softly.

            “Which one?” Dustin runs a hand in his curly hair. “Mike or his evil twin?” It’s Max’s turn to roll her eyes at Dustin and she gives him a little shove before moving back to Lucas’ bed where she’d been halfheartedly reading one of his comic books. She spreads back out on her stomach, putting both of her hands under her chin to prop herself somewhat up. She’s not looking at the comic book; she knows that she won’t be able to concentrate anymore even if she tried.

            “We don’t know that he’s evil…” Lucas points out, still looking outside.

            “Yeah, we don’t know _anything_ about him.” Dustin rebuttals. “That’s what makes it creepy. And I mean come on, when has anything good happened to us? I’m telling you, going 13, nearly 14 years, without knowing about his twin and then when Hawkins Lab finally shuts down and things are over, he just… appears? It’s…” Dustin is gearing up for his latest conspiracy theory and Will knows that he needs to stop it in it’s tracks. Having Dustin get them all worked up isn’t going to be helpful to anyone at this point.

            “Both of them.” He says quietly.

            “What?!” Dustin and Lucas ask at the same time.

            “I wonder how both are doing.” He explains. “I mean, if he’s being placed with the Wheelers’ that means something has happened right? Something bad… and well, Mike…” He trails off. He doesn’t have to explain the rest of his worries.

            Mike had been off even before learning about the existence of his twin. Since finding out though, he’d seemed stuck in his head as if he’d given up on even trying to act normal like he had been doing before. Will had seen him on Monday morning, after Chief Hopper had dropped him off at the Byers’ hoping that Jonathan could give both of them a ride to school. Mike had ended up staying there for another two nights before finally being forced to go home. And if Jonathan and the others hadn’t updated him on everything that had gone down Saturday night, Will would have remained in complete darkness as to what had put Mike in a funk. He’d barely spoken a word the entire time he’d stayed with him. He’d just gone through the motions, eyes distant as if he was trying to solve a huge problem all on his own. Sure, he’d sometimes snap back to the present and offer Will a smile or ask him something about a new drawing that would catch his eye randomly but beyond that, he’d been a complete shadow of himself.

            Will is glad that Dustin has kept his conspiracy theories to himself at least. He’d been pleasantly surprised actually when Dustin had shared his research on twins that had been positive in kind and had stayed away from the paranormal twin research he’d completed as well. He knows he shouldn’t have been surprised. Dustin, although often acting like the clown, is also good at being the voice of reason in their group and the one who knows what to say and when to keep fights from erupting in order to keep them all together. He’s very good at reminding Lucas and Mike about the golden rules the Party keeps. But… he also gets a little too excited and forgets that not everyone is going to react in the same way he will about well, his discoveries and the wide range of curiosity voyages that captures his attention and imagination.

            Take Dart for instance… or the stuffed unnamed demodog that Dustin had managed to talk Steve into placing in his mother’s freezer all those months ago.

            Max is biting the inside of her cheek as she watches the three exchange glances with one another. She’d been very quiet about the whole thing as if she wasn’t sure she could share her thoughts or if they’d even be welcomed. She knew she was an official member of the Party but she also realized that she didn’t see things the way they did. Part of that was because she hadn’t known any of them from before. Some times when she listened to Lucas explaining group dynamics, she had a hard time imagining how each of them even were from _before._ Before El vs. Post El vs. Now. It’s how she dubbed the distinct time periods in her mind, classifying each shared memory in those categories.

            Before El, Mike had been the leader, Lucas the warrior and Mike’s clear second in command, Dustin the clown, and Will the peacemaker. Or if she had to use their nerdy language, Mike had been the Paladin, Lucas the Ranger, Dustin the Bard, and Will the Cleric.

            Post El, Mike had simply been angry and had acted as if he was Will’s sole protector, Lucas had been in a keep your fucking head down and get back to normal mode, only going back to being the warrior when it had been clear it had been needed and Dustin, well… he’d been the comic relief, researcher, the pain in the butt know-it-all that didn’t always think everything through. And Will had been delicate, a little broken, and a whole lot strange. Max had been both soothed by his open acceptance and gentle presence and creeped the hell out by him because there had been something completely otherworldly about him.

            Now, Mike seemed like he was both floundering and grounded – not quite the leader that everyone else in the Party saw him as but it was obvious he was trying hard to get back there. Like he knew everyone was expecting it of him. He was overtly protective of everyone in the Party ( _even her, maybe even more so towards her since the incident with her stepbrother, but always with Will_ ) and kinder but sometimes there’d be a tension that would line his body and he would just seem frustrated with everyone and the world, and Max preferred to stay away from him when she sensed that it was just a _bad_ day as Dustin dubbed them. Lucas and Dustin didn’t overtly seem to change. They still bickered and played and seemed to want everything to just be normal again. There was a forced quality to it though and Max knew that Lucas had nightmares just like she did. Maybe more because of what he’d seen from before. They talked about it in round about ways or without words at all, hands holding onto each other as they took walks or took naps together because sleeping during the day always felt safer than sleeping during the night. And Will…

            Max finds herself caught staring at him and flushes before looking back down at the comic. She wonders if he’s more back to what he used to be like or different again. He still seems physically frail but stronger somehow. He hasn’t had an “episode” since the gate has been closed. Yet there’s still that otherworldly feeling coming from him and maybe that more than anything else is why he’s back to being the voice of reason in the group over even Dustin. The clear peacemaker that everyone listens to even when what’s being said is with a look and not actual words.

            Max doesn’t have much of an opinion about El besides that she sounds bad ass, _is_ bad ass, but that the girl doesn’t seem to like her very much. She hasn’t really seen the girl though since that one night and the Snow Ball so she’s not sure if that gut feeling is right. Still, whenever she thinks of El, it makes her stomach cramp up because she remembers like it was yesterday that she offered the girl her hand and the girl just walked right past her, like she was nothing. Even at the dance, El hadn’t really interacted with her. She’d seemed way too absorbed with Mike to even notice anyone else. It makes her feel like her spot in the Party is tenuous though because she has no doubt that if El wants her out of the group, she will be booted out. ( _And another part of her rebukes her for that fear because she knows that’s unfair. Lucas and Dustin and maybe even Will would fight to keep her in the Party. Once in the Party, always part of the Party. And maybe, maybe even Mike would fight to keep her. She thinks he likes her better now, it’s just… its still hard for her to forget what it was like before she’d officially been accepted as part of their group. And she knows how much El means to all of them. She’s still unsure how much she, herself, means to all of them. A Zoomer, is after all, pretty lame compared to a Mage._ )

            She doesn’t realize how long it’s been quiet in the room until Dustin sighs loudly.

            “Think we can just show up? Maybe bring a batch of cookies and say we’re the Hawkins Welcoming party?”

            “What?! No!” Lucas shoots the idea down quickly. “Mike would kill us.”

            “No he wouldn’t. He’d know we were crashing simply because we care and want to be there for him.”

            “More like because you’re curious as all get out and can’t wait.” Lucas mutters and gets up and away from the window. “You know the deal, we wait until he calls us.” When he comes to sit on the bed, its gentle, only making the mattress shift under her slightly.

            “Yeah but…” Dustin is frowning, still looking out the window. “… what if he doesn’t call us?” And there’s that odd tension filling the room again as Max watches the three boys looking at each other. She knows that the look means _something_. That they’re communicating _something_ to each other that probably highlights how little she does know them from before.

            “Mike will call us.” Will finally says quietly and that’s that.

Tbc


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5                                           

 

            “So what’s he like?” The question is asked softly, gently and his brown eyes are caring as they look her over carefully. Just his presence makes it easier to breath and to relax and Nancy lets herself lean into his side more deeply. She ponders the question and how to answer it but honestly, she finds her mind getting pulled in an entirely different direction. She laces her fingers with Jonathan’s, admiring how long and artistic his hands look and that observation makes her think back to just how _good_ Jonathan is as a person.

            When he’d opened the front door to find her there, he hadn’t voiced his surprise ( _even if he had looked very surprised to see her_ ). He hadn’t even asked any questions. He’d simply opened the door wider and wordlessly taken her into his arms for a quick hug before ushering her into his room. He’d let her pick where she had wanted to settle, giving her time to get comfortable on his bed and to smile just a little at how cute it was that he still blushed after all they’d been through. He’d given her some space too as he’d fiddled with his stereo and put some music that he already knew she enjoyed.

            Jonathan was so gentle and sweet and caring under all that quiet cynicism and the leave me alone vibes he gave off to the rest of the world. He makes her feel so very loved and so very safe. She doesn’t quite know if she deserves him. But she also knows she would do everything in her power to not let anything or anyone take him away from her. There was still some guilt in the way they’d handled things with Steve that would come up from time to time. But lately, even that was settling down and it was coming up less and less in their interactions. It helped that she’d finally talked to Steve openly and had ended the relationship officially. Even better was how they were all seeming to come out as friends despite the break up and this new relationship. Shared trauma really did a number on how people connected to one another.

            When Jonathan had finally finished puttering, he’d looked at her before coming to settle right next to her, opening his arms in quiet invitation to come settle in that warm little nook; her head on his shoulder, his arm draped loosely around her with both of their backs being supported by the headboard of his bed.

            She hadn’t been quiet as he’d walked around his room. She’d been rambling on god knows what to fill the silence. She was upset but felt like she didn’t have a reason to be upset. It’s probably why she’d come here in the first place even though she’d told him not to expect to hear from her until school the next day. She needed to be with her family, to be with Mike and he’d agreed.

            It’s only when he’d joined her on the bed that she’d fallen silent too. The silence had been comforting for a bit and she’d concentrated on listening to the steady rhythm of Jonathan’s heartbeat and how warm he was. But then the silence had started to eat at her. Memories of what had happened earlier today came uninvited and she must have tensed. Something must have given her away because Jonathan finally asked, prompting her to share if she wanted to.

            “He’s nothing like Mike at all.”

            “Oh?” She shakes her head but not hard enough that it disrupts the way they’re holding on to each other.

            “I mean,” She starts again. “It’s obvious they’re identical twins but Richie is just…” She trails off trying to find the right words. “He’s rude and he’s in your face and he’s just… too much.” She honestly doesn’t know how her family is going to survive the force that is Richie.

            “Huh…” Jonathan just makes the noise. It’s not judgmental and continues to provide her space to elaborate if she wants to or to simply let the subject go. She appreciates how he gives her the control to decide whether to continue or not. She knows if Steve had been in his place, he’d have peppered her with questions until she’d either given into telling him everything or yelled at him to leave her alone. He’d have tried to then butter her back into a good mood by being obnoxious and charming all at the same time. She makes a face and wonders what it is about today that is making her think about how different Jonathan and Steve are. But the truth of it is that she already knows…

            Some of Richie’s random comments about her had hit a little too close to home. Like the one about clearly not being a virgin, unlike Mikey-baby, clear mama’s boy.

            “I wish you could have been there to see it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad lose his temper like he did. And then Mike lost it and just… it was such a mess. Holly was crying, mom was too…” _And I just ran away_. She sighs then and lets go of his hands. _No wonder Mike hasn’t come to me. He knows I’m never there. Not when it matters. Not when it counts._

            “Sounds like a shit show.” It’s not funny and it’s actually a really accurate description but she snorts anyway before pressing her hands to her eyes.

            “Oh it so was.” She whispers. “It really, truly was.” He moves to wrap his arms more tightly around her and starts to whisper reassurances as she starts to cry.

…

           Will had seen Nancy when she’d arrived and he’s dying a little inside at not knowing what exactly had happened and what was bringing her over. Joyce had given him a look that he’d been able to read all too well at the time of Nancy’s arrival.

            _Leave those two alone._

And he had been but he’d also taken his time when walking past Jonathan’s room ( _only once or twice… or maybe three times_ ). His brother’s door was kept wide open as had been agreed upon when it had become clear that his relationship with Nancy had moved from acquaintance to friend to girlfriend. Sock footed, he’d been quiet as he passed it and he’d felt his stomach cramp when he heard Nancy’s muffled sobs. He frowned and went back to his room, pacing for a bit.

            It’s where he is still now, in his room, pacing. Everyone in the party had promised to stay next to their supercomms once they separated and headed home just in case Mike needed them today. They’d also promised not to contact Mike first, just like he’d asked and it had made sense at the time. Or maybe Mike had sounded so convinced that it was what he wanted that it had made sense. But now it simply leaves Will feeling helpless.

            Mike had been his one constant since coming back home after being in the Upside Down. He’d been the only one that could snap him back when he had his spells or episodes as everyone had called them and Will honestly could say that he’d felt safest when Mike had been right at his side. It was strange, looking back at it.

            Mike had been just the right combination of acknowledging that things were shit, but that he wasn’t breakable and that they could get through this. It had been a direct contrast to the way Dustin and Lucas and everyone else just treated him with kid gloves or outright ignored that anything was wrong. No, Mike had been irritable and snappy when he was having a bad day himself so that it felt normal to be with him and yet Mike had also been so protective and understanding and willing to listen that it had felt safe to be with him too.

            He’d been Will’s anchor.

            He’d known Mike had been struggling and Mike had leaned a little on him during that time. It was only now, looking back at it that he’d sometimes find himself wondering if Mike had shown just enough of what had been going on with him so that Will wouldn’t feel like such a freak. So that they could be freaks together, going insane together and if they were going down together, Will didn’t need to hold back and could continue to lean on him. And lean on him hard he had…

            He’d grown so scarily dependent on Mike that sometimes he’d roll over on his bed and expect Mike to be on the floor, sleeping in a makeshift bed next to him and his absence from that very spot would make him panic. It was bad and not normal. Will was at a loss as to how to not continue to stay dependent on him. Especially with how he’d seen Mike and El look at each other. He just couldn’t continue holding on to Mike like he had been this past year. It wouldn’t be fair.

            So he’d pushed Mike to make amends with Max. He’d started calling Dustin and Lucas first to hang out instead of Mike. He acted like he was completely fine, better than fine and didn’t struggle with any nightmares, any repercussions from everything they’d all been through ( _again_ ). Like he didn’t wake up one night out of every two, cold yet drenched with sweat and feeling so heavy with guilt for all the lives he’d directly played a role in ending. Like Bob. And all those nameless soldiers.

            It didn’t matter what anyone else said. It didn’t matter that they blamed the Mind Flayer and that he’d been possessed. It had still been his voice, his weakness… Sometimes, he worried that there were still some pieces of the Upside Down and the Mind Flayer still hidden in him, just waiting for the right moment to come back out again. And it took everything that he had in those moments to not reach out, to not pull Mike to be right back at his side, asking his oldest friend to continue protecting him.

            And yes, he knew he was lying to himself and to everyone else when he’d tell himself that by not reaching out, by actively pushing Mike away, it was working and that Mike was doing better for the changes. The truth was, Mike wasn’t doing well and Will was desperate to have him back at his side, carefully watching over him, and listening to him and even sharing stories if Will wasn’t in a place to talk.

            He just… wasn’t allowing Mike to do that, wasn’t allowing himself to ask for that because they _needed_ to go back to normal. That’s what had kept him from reaching out all those other times even when it seemed like it wasn’t helping. After all, hadn’t he been told for over a year that time would heal all things eventually? Maybe they all just needed more time to get back to normal. So he’d held strong.

            But this was different. This didn’t have anything to do with what had been happening for the past one and half years. It was a completely new problem and Mike deserved to not have to deal with it completely alone.

            Will plays with the supercomm in his hands and fiddles with it. It’s already on the right channel to get a hold of his friend…

            Should he? Should he not? He closes his eyes and knows what Mike would do if the roles were reversed. He takes a long and deep breath and…

            “Mike? Are you there? It’s Will, over.”

…

            “JESUS!” Richie nearly flies off the new twin bed that has been shoved against Mike’s new bed, only a tiny night table squished between separating the two from actually touching. The old bunk bed had been moved out when he’d been staying with Hopper and then the Byers. He wasn’t quite sure where it was currently stashed and he didn’t honestly care enough to investigate. He hadn’t grieved the loss of the bunk bed. It had been getting too short for his tall frame, old mattress lumpy and uncomfortable.

            Apparently a psychologist friend of his mo- …of Karen had advised that it would be helpful for both Mike and Richie to share a room. It would help them bond and deal with the grief of having been separated at birth. Or something. Hence the two twin beds laid out parallel to one another.

            Mike had rolled his eyes at the time and thought that it was more likely that they’d either be forced to bond over the lack of space in the room or kill each other for the same reason.

            “What the _fuck_ was _that_?!” Richie’s already magnified eyes look even wider in that moment as he clutches at his chest. Mike can’t help but think it’s a bit of an over dramatic reaction but that seems par for the course from all that he’s been able to learn about his twin in the handful of hours spent together.

            “Chill, it’s my friend.”

            “You have a friend who’s a disembodied ghost? Don’t hold out on me Mikey-baby! Do we need to get the room exorcised? This is important shit to warn a guy about!” The other teen is no longer clutching at his chest and is instead looking around the room trying to figure out where Will’s voice had come from. Mike sighs and tries to make his way over to his bed without tripping on anything. The few belongings that Richie had brought with him are already spread about on the floor making it so that he does have to be careful and side step the various bundles of clothes and book or two. It doesn’t help that Holly remains glued to his hip and it’s unlikely that she’s going to be willing to let him go anytime soon.

            “I don’t think so…” He grunts as he decides it’ll be easier to walk with Holly in his arms and he pauses to pick her up. “It’s my supercomm, you know…like a radio, walkie-talkie?”

            “This?!” Richie asks, having jumped back onto his bed and looked under Mike’s bed. His voice sounds muffled but becomes clearer when his head pops back up from under there. He looks even more ruffled than before if that is even possible, some of his loose curls becoming fluffy with static. Holly giggles at the sight, though her thumb is still very much in her mouth where it has been since dinner had become an explosive argument that had gotten Mike and Richie sent into their rooms for a “time-out”.

            Such bullshit…

            The only reason she’s even with them right now is because she’d started to scream along with crying when Karen had tried to pick her up right around the time when Mike had been ordered to leave the dinner table and cool his head in his room. She’d yelled his name so hard that her face had turned a purple red color and Mike’s heart had broken a little at the way she’d managed to get loose from Karen in order to latch onto him. She still hadn’t let go and her face was still a bit more pinkish than normal but at least she’d stopped crying and her breathing had finally settled.

            “Yeah but don’t…” Mike doesn’t even know why he bothered trying to say anything. Richie is already pushing the button and talking into it.

            “Mikey-baby is currently unable to take this call as his pickle needs attention. Like majorly. Can I take a message, cutie?”

            “Richie!” Mike isn’t sure what he wants to do most in that moment, cover Holly’s ears even though he doubts she even remotely gets what Richie is referencing with his pickle comment OR to just throw the nearest object at Richie’s head and get his supercomm away from his twin’s hands. Either sound like good options. Holly’s wellbeing wins but he simply adjusts her in his arms, making sure she has a good grip on his neck before he jumps onto Richie’s bed.

            Boundaries be damned.

            Richie doesn’t seem to care and cackles as he’s bounced around.

            Will’s voice sounds out again, more than a little confused.

            “… what?” There’s no “over” at the end of his question which signals that his friend doesn’t even know where to begin with what he’s just heard.

            “Give me that,” Mike hisses and Richie passes the supercomm over with a smirk and a wink, tickling Holly under her chin and making her giggle even more. She bangs her head on Mike’s face as she tries to evade the tickling hand. It makes him wince but he still takes the supercomm from Richie. “Will? It’s Mike. Ignore what Richie said. He has no fucking filter. Over.” There’s part of him that wants to say and _I wouldn’t fucking give my pickle attention when I’m sharing a room. I wouldn’t even call it a pickle_ but it seems stupid to tack that on. He’d hope his best friend would know him enough to just dismiss the crap that just came out of Richie’s mouth.

            Also, he has a headache.

            “A-are you okay? Over.”   
            “Yeah,” He huffs out. “Just peachy.” Richie’s pointy chin digs into his free shoulder and he hears Holly laugh on his other side. No doubt Holly and Richie are playing some weird ass version of peek-a-boo with him being their _wall_ or something. It’s highly distracting but he stays where he is if only because Holly is laughing and seems to be having a good time. She’s bonding with Richie and that’s a good thing, right? “Do you need something? Over.” He doesn’t mean to sound harsh but it’s a bit hard to sound like anything else at the moment.

            “Told ya he’s busy…” Richie reaches over to press on the button and it probably coincides with Will trying to say something but now they’ll never know.

            “Do you have a mute button?” Mike finally snaps and Richie just blows a raspberry on his cheek making Holly giggle even harder and attempt to do the same on his other cheek. Lovely. Fucking perfect.

            “Doubt it, my parents tried to find it for years…” He sounds way too pleased with himself but it sounds off somehow. Mike can’t think much of that though as Richie starts to give Holly a break down on how to do a perfect raspberry. Mike’s cheeks are now covered with spit and he aims an elbow jab to Richie’s chest to get him to stop. Will’s voice sounds out again with a slight crackle.

            “No… just wanted to check in and see how you were.” There’s a slight pause. “Nancy’s here. And I got worried. Over.” Richie’s slightly manic smile disappears and Mike shifts Holly in his arms again. She’s getting heavy. He’s not used to carrying her around so much. She’s more likely to be in her mother’s hair than his. That’s not to say he never spent time with her… no… she’d managed to drag him plenty of times to play tea time or read her stories but still, she’d always been her mother’s daughter. Her mom had been her favorite person.

            Mike kneels down on the bed and positions Holly onto his lap.

            “Ah.” He hadn’t really thought about where Nancy was. But it wasn’t super surprising that she’d left considering how everything had played out. “What did she say?” Richie settles down right next to him, leaning his chin right back onto his shoulder as if it’s where he belonged. It was a bit surprising how easy Richie was taking all the changes. Mike hated change. “Over.” He adds belatedly.

            “Nothing… Or at least not to me. She’s with Jonathan. Over.” Mike considers that and doesn’t quite know what to say that would be truthful and comforting. It’s taken out of his hands though as Holly takes over the supercomm.

            “Will-will, Richie said bad bad _bad_ words and daddy yelled and then Mikey yelled and then they got sent to their room.” Mike has to roll his eyes and stifle a sigh at hearing her adopt Richie’s nickname for him already. At least, he thinks, she isn’t tacking on the ‘baby’ at the end of it. She’d actually gotten a bit huffy at the ‘baby’ bit once or twice earlier in the day, telling Richie in her toddler no nonsense voice that Mike was an older brother and _not_ a baby. That had gotten a good laugh from his twin and a, _you’re completely right, short stuff_. _The baby is just my pet name for him._ Good grief, what a mouth breather thing to say to a four year old.

            “That’s a pretty good summary short stuff.” Richie compliments her, tugging her pigtail gently.

            “You forgot to say over, Hols.” Mike instructs her gently and watches as she dutifully pressed the button again and says the word.

            “Oh.” Will’s voice sounds out again as if he was taking all of that in and wondering why Holly of all people was giving him the news. “Hi Holly.”

            “Hi Will-will!” She says happily and well, the conversation is a no go after that. The supercomm hijacked as a microphone as the little girl starts to sing nonsense into it. Mike can’t help but shake his head, only mildly irritated. He’s too tired to feel anything stronger than that.

 

tbc...


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First night at the Wheeler Household continues... and in which we hear from Richie's POV.

Chapter 6                                            

 

            It’s hours later that Mike finds himself truly alone with his twin for the first time since laying eyes on each other. The lights have been turned off and they’re supposed to be sleeping. He has a feeling that Richie is actually asleep which makes sense considering that he’d traveled over 16 hours by car to get from Derry, Maine to Hawkins, Indiana. Who knows what else he’d dealt with before then.

            Richie had been so far incredibly talented at not answering any personal question straight on. Mike hadn’t realized it at the time. He’d been too easily manipulated into feeling insulted, offended, irritated, ready to strangle his twin and just as quickly feeling incredibly protective of him. He wasn’t quite sure what had triggered the change. But there had been a moment at the dinner table when Wheeler Senior had started going into full lecture mode, _you will abide by my rules under this house hold_ and _if I were your coach, you’d be off the team, not just on the bench, son_ bull shit…and Richie had flinched when the man had stood up, yelling. It had been minute and barely noticeable but Mike had seen it.

            It made the bruise to his cheek, fading yes but still very present, and his too skinny frame suddenly pop out again. Mike felt the protective surge and reacted without thinking. He doesn’t even know if _he_ really knows even now what he said or why he said those things beyond the fact that he needed Wheeler Senior to just _fucking back off_.

            Yeah, Richie had been completely inappropriate and had been flustering _everyone_ since he’d arrived ( _Mike had understood why the CPS worker had seemed so damned relieved to leave after merely spending 30 minutes with the guy. He can’t imagine what it must have been like for her to have spent several hours stuck in a car with Richie…_ ). But… but… he was a kid. A kid whose one parent had died and whose other one… Mike frowned. He didn’t know what the story was with Richie’s father. Was he also dead? Was he simply not around? He guessed it didn’t really matter. Richie was still very much alone surrounded by strangers and being told that he had to be grateful in accepting what they had to give. If their positions had been reversed, Mike doesn’t know how he would have handled the changes or the rules. Maybe not like an obnoxious rude dick… but he wouldn’t have been “grateful” either.

            Mike sighs and shifts to his side to stare out the window. He has a growing feeling that Richie had been over the top simply as a way to test out the limits of the new environment. Seeing what buttons could be pushed and couldn’t be pushed. It’s almost like he’d expected a certain reaction and wasn’t sure what to do when he didn’t get it. Or maybe he had and that’s what had kept him going? Mike doesn’t know for sure. It’s just a gut feeling he has and he’s learned that it pays to listen to it.

            He at least seemed good with Holly despite an awkwardness when it became clear that Holly at least, had adopted Richie 100% and loved her new “brother”. It was clear then that Richie had no real idea what to do with little kids when Holly wanted to be picked up by him and hugged. She’d given him her special running tackle hug and kissed him really loudly on the cheek, courtesy of the raspberry blowing lesson, before being tugged away by Karen to be put to bed. Mike had laughed at the bemused expression on Richie’s face just then before guiding him to the bathroom. Still, he couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable Richie had looked in that moment and how Richie had kept a hold of his hand for longer than necessary.

            It had tugged at his heart, like the way El hadn’t wanted him to close the door that very first night when he’d taken her in so long ago. And maybe that moment along with all the other moments showing his vulnerability and underlying kindness under all the irritation producing behaviors is what bought Richie Mike’s loyalty.

            Mike is still musing about everything that had happened and how to go about introducing Richie to the remainder of the Party ( _and oh god, he doesn’t even know what Will thought at this point and what sort of damage control he’ll have to do tomorrow_ ) when Richie scares the shit out of him. The other teen doesn’t yell, not quite. But the way he bolts up and out of the covers and starts gulping the air like he’s been suffocating makes Mike sit up too, heart racing.

            “Richie?” Mike starts, reaching over to turn on the light. “Richie… it’s…” The word _okay_ fizzles on his lips as he watches the other slam his glasses onto his face and look around. He seems so lost but then something seems to click in his brain and he seems to simply collapse in on himself while going back to sitting on the bed. If he’s crying, which Mike suspects he is with the way his shoulders are shaking, he’s quiet about it.

            Mike shifts uncomfortably, not knowing what to do at first. He watches for a bit before moving closer and reaching out, squeezing Richie’s shoulder gently.

…

            _It_  had highlighted several things for Richie. One, he had every fucking reason to be deadly afraid of clowns. They were mother-fucking the worst living creatures he had ever come across, especially the deadly supernatural serial-killing shape-shifting kind. Even the non-supernatural ones were not to be messed with. Whatever self-respecting adult willing to wear _that_ kind of make up and get up and change their voices to entertain little kids certainly had a couple screws loose if you asked him. 

            Two, werewolves were also no joke. They were deadly supernatural creatures and if  _It_  was a real  _thing_  then fucking excuse you but werewolves could be real too. He had solemnly sworn to himself that he would always be extra careful on days the full moon shown high in the sky and had put his meager allowance to good use by buying a silver pocket knife that he always kept with him, right next to Eds’ spare inhaler. You could never be too careful about these things. Granted, he didn’t carry either now due to the circumstances and the little he’d been able to take with him. He supposes there’s no longer a need to carry Eds’ spare inhaler anyway. And the knife… well… he shivers and his mind moves past the memory of it quickly. He’ll have to figure out another way to deal with werewolves.

            Three, his greatest fear was of being unwanted, discarded, and alone. Screw clowns and werewolves. Those he could handle; give him a fucking baseball bat and he’d get right to it. But the other things… he can’t handle that. 

            He’d known deep in his gut that day in the house on Neibolt street that if  _It_  got him, it wouldn’t simply be a matter of days before everyone in Derry, Maine went about their day-to day-lives, forgetting he’d ever existed. It would simply be a matter of hours. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if his parents would notice the difference beyond maybe to pause and appreciate the sudden silence. 

             _It_  had been killed. The lessons had been learned. And then Richie had woken to his worst nightmare. At first he’d been in shock, waiting for the sight in front of him to change. But his mother’s stiffened and still body stayed where it was collapsed on the floor. The smell of the vomit that surrounded her pale face remained in his nostrils even after he’d been forcibly removed from the room. 

            Maggie Tozier would never have won the best mother award. Her love for alcohol had always trumped her love for him. But she’d been there and had tried. At times, he’d even experienced glimpses of what his life could have been like if alcohol had never been part of their lives. She’d cook on those days, she’d listen with a half-smile, half-confused grimace twisting at her lips as she’d watch his animated antics and took in the words that he would quickly force into the open air because it was such a god damn rare treat for her to be sober. 

She’d also shop for him on those days and clean. That would be when he’d typically come home and find clothes that would finally match his latest growth spurt and they would be all warm and recently folded from having just been laundered. It was those little moments that made him realize that no matter how many semi-okay days or bad days she had, she kept an eye on him and noticed that he was getting taller, changing as he quickly approached adolescence and young adulthood. It showed him that she must be listening even when he thought she wasn’t because she always seemed to get him the shirts of bands or shows that he liked. The bright garish colors of his Hawaiian shirts had appeared following an existential tirade that he thought he’d been having with himself about the need for more color in this monochromatic life of Derry, Maine where no one seemed to understand that color… color was the spice of life. It was those days and all those little details that let him hold on to the fact that she did indeed _love_ him and _want_ him no matter how bad the other days got.

She was always quiet on the good days. On those rare days, he never wanted the day to end and railed against the setting sun because he knew, he just knew, that the next morning she’d be back to how she was normally. Lost behind a closed door, drinking whatever she’d managed to get her hands on. 

            On the semi-okay days, even lost in her alcohol fueled daze, she was quiet and kept to herself. She’d be watching the television or reading articles and would impatiently shoo him away with a flap of her hands. Food was always a hit or a miss on those days. But at least it was always somewhat easy to scrounge up some money –  _he knew all the hiding spots_  – and order take out if needed. 

            On the bad days, it didn’t matter what Richie did or didn’t do, it would always be wrong and bad and why couldn’t he just be  _normal?_ Why couldn’t he be  _quiet_  and  _good_  and not so god damn  _annoying_!? Why couldn’t he have been a  _girl_? And objects would be thrown to punctuate each observation of what was wrong with him. They rarely ever made contact with him. He’d known to read the signs and high tail it out of there but never so far that he couldn’t hear her. No. Never that far.

            Because yeah, it sucked to have your very being be stripped to pieces and told it was wrong but… but… at least she noticed him. She’d acknowledge that he existed. And that to Richie had been ten times better than his father who never acknowledged him. When he was at the house, Richie felt like he was a ghost. He’d gone as far as bothering Eddie Spaghetti once, asking him to pinch him  _hard_  just to make sure that he was indeed a corporal being. A real living and breathing boy. His friend had looked at him oddly and after some back and forth had complied with the request, albeit complaining loudly that Richie was just a  _fucking weirdo_  and couldn’t he bother someone else at 11pm on a school night? Honestly. Sleep was important, didn’t he know that?

            And Richie had left with a bruise in the meaty part of his upper arm and a heck of a lot more knowledge on the importance of sleep hygiene before returning home. He could press down on the bruise for days after and remind himself, _yeah… I’m still real_. 

            So no, his mother would never have won any parenting awards. But she was all he knew and he loved her just as much as he resented her. He outright hated his father whose indifference hurt more than the chaotic and ever changing mood of his alcoholic mother. He’d never thought to think anything would change in his life as long as he remained a minor.

            Until it all did. 

            When the shock had faded enough to let his body unfreeze, he’d gone to touch her, to force her back into motion, his denial screaming at him that she couldn’t be dead. If he shook her just hard enough, then she’d wake up. She just had to.

            He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what it was like to touch her then ( _cold and stiff and heavy)_ and he knows he’ll always remember the sights ( _red turning pink where water had spilled and mixed with the blood, the discarded knife next to a limp hand and holy shit it was his, it was his knife!, the empty bottle of pills right alongside her usual vodka bottle)_ and the smell ( _like curdled milk and alcohol and the metallic scent of blood all combined)_ …

            Sound is the only thing he can’t remember from that day. It’s all muffled even when the memories take him away from the present moment as if his brain is stuck on repeat, making him relive the moment over and over again because it’s too horrifying for it to be real. Or maybe it’s because his brain knows that it’s what he deserves because it’s _his_ fault. It’s his fucking fault. And when his brain brings him back to that moment, everything else disappears and it doesn’t matter what’s real or what’s not. All he knows is he can see, and he can smell, and he can feel but he can’t hear and he’s trapped and all he wants, all he wants is to find a way out, a way to wake from the nightmare that is now his life.

            There are parts of that night that are blurry. Almost everything outside of that moment in the bathroom is actually. He’s been told that his father had been present for part of it and had blamed him for his mother’s death. Richie had apparently tried to move his mother and hadn’t been willing to let go of her which had led to being slapped (punched?) in the face, breaking his glasses in two like before…and at some point 911 must have been called because the police and other first responders started to swarm the house and the next thing he knew he was in the hospital with a shock blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his mother was dead and his father was gone. No one could find him. He’d just vanished.

            And Richie was very much alone. Abandoned. Unwanted. 

            A burden on the system and he could see it written on every nurse’s face that came to check on him, asking him again if there was someone else he could call, someone else that could take him even for the night. He’d ended up calling Big Bill because well, what else could he do if his father was gonna be MIA?

            He’d stayed there two nights and a day before the fucked up normalcy of Big Bill’s family and school ( _and he knows its fucked up because ever since Georgie’s disappearance and confirmed death, the family has been fucked up but normal still, more normal than Richie has ever experienced with their family meals and family conversations about daily living_ ) became suffocating. CPS kept coming either before school or right after, asking him questions about family – extended, immediate – he didn’t know of anyone besides his parents. It just kept confirming what he already knew. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. This couldn’t continue. 

            He’d left Big Bill’s house and gone to school as usual only to skip off early from class. Left alone, outside, he’d contemplated the sky for a bit before heading back to his home, ignoring the yellow police tape marking the front door. The yellow – black tape seemed garishly bright, unreal, as if his home had been turned into a television crime show set but once past it, his home was still the same.

            Quiet, slightly dusty, a little on the cold side, but not frigid. They hadn’t turned the heat off yet. 

            He’d padded up the stairs and had gone right back to the place where it had all began. The bathroom door was still ajar. The floor was empty but it was dirty. The bloodied water had dried and left its mark.  He wondered vaguely whose job it would be to clean that up. And wouldn’t that be a fucked up job to have…

            The inane wonder of whether it would have fallen on his father’s shoulders if he hadn’t just upped and vanished floated in and out. He had hesitated before slowly sitting, fingers tracing the marks absently before they nudged into the knife. It was hard and cold and heavy when he finally latched onto it. He’d tested the blade, drawing a parallel angry red line next to the scar on the palm of his hand and had watched the blood pearl and start to drip, faster and faster from his palm to the floor. The pain had been vivid, breaking through a haze that he hadn’t really noticed wrapping around him until it was gone. 

            It wasn’t a thought out plan. He hadn’t come to his house with this purpose, this intent in mind but sitting there, watching the blood coloring his hand, making it slick, it seemed to click into place. It seemed to make sense. He could follow his mother’s footsteps and discard this life that clearly hadn’t been meant to be anyway. 

             _I’d always wanted a daughter. Why couldn’t you be born a girl?_  Why, why, why indeed? He wonders if he had, if she’d still be here and alive. Maybe she’d never have started drinking. Maybe his presence would have been wanted then. Maybe it would have been enough for her to want to live. Maybe…

            He wishes he could be angry at the Losers. Angry that they’d noticed his absence and had cared enough to ditch school to search for him. Angry that they had found him in time to call for help and to stop the bleeding not just from his hand but from the long deep gash he’d managed to cut from his wrist nearly all the way to his elbow, all the while tracing the lightly blue vein that he could see as he went. 

            He wishes he could be angry but he’s not. A part of him is fucking relieved and a whole heck of a lot scared at the time that they’ve bought him by saving him. Because after being kept in the loony bin on suicide watch, CPS had claimed him and brought him to the family they’d managed to find.

            An aunt in Hawkins, Indiana. His mother’s only sister living in the suburbs with a husband, two daughters, and a son. But apparently not a son because he was Richie’s twin? It doesn’t quite all make sense to him, even the CPS worker seems a bit confused about it, and it’s all a jumble in his brain but he does know it’s a chance. A chance at life. A chance at a family.

He’s scared of this new chance. Scared of this new chance for a family, this new chance to get attached only to be rejected again. 

            Richie knows that he showed the worst fucking parts of himself today. He actively tried to push any and all of their buttons because fuck, he can’t take the idea of getting hurt again. He’d rather know now that they can’t handle him, that they’ll send him packing to who knows where, then get comfortable here. That was the plan. That doesn’t mean he wanted to hurt any of them in the process and he’d seen the hurt flash in his cousin’s eyes before she left the house. 

            But at least now he knew. He was skating thin ice with one Ted Wheeler and it seemed a no brainer to stay away from the man. He wasn’t worth the risk of getting attached to and he’s pretty sure that if Ted had more of an interest in his own family, Richie wouldn’t have even been allowed to enter the house. He isn’t so sure about his Aunt Karen, nor his cousin Nancy. They seemed like pretty fucking big risks but he couldn’t have put into words why. Maybe an instinct that screamed at him that if he pushed them just hard enough away, they would eventually stay away. Give up on him for a lost cause. But maybe they wouldn’t send him away like Ted would.

            Michael, Mike, Mikey, Mikey-baby, the boy with his face and his voice and fuck that wasn’t weird at all, not at all, uh-uh, not one bit  _(it was very fucking weird, thank you very much_ ) he scares Richie the most. He’d pushed him the hardest too, all day, getting into his face verbally and physically. He’d seen flare ups of impatience, of shock, of annoyance, and exasperation flitting in wide brown eyes ( _no fair about the 20/20 vision buddy, identical apparently didn’t mean 100% identical)_  and that all made sense to Richie. What didn’t was the way he’d caught the teen watching him carefully as if he knew that Richie was trying to push his ( _and everyone else’s_ ) buttons on purpose and he wasn’t going to take the bait. Oh sure, he’d offered some snapping retorts at times, and boy were they glorious ( _must be genetics, that wit)_  but none of the comments had been particularly biting or hurtful and honestly, he was showing Richie much more patience and grace than well, anyone else he’d ever known. Including his best friends who he would have willingly sacrificed his life for and knew that they would do the same for him in return.

It also didn’t make any fucking sense to him the way Mikey had taken his defense during dinner, even going as far as standing up to act like a human shield between Richie and Ted. The protectiveness that he’d shown in that moment had made Richie feel way too vulnerable but he’d hidden it ( _or so he hopes_ ) and moved to focus all of his attention on the youngest Wheeler, while still trying to find a way to prove to himself that Mikey would be just like the rest. 

He hadn’t expected it to back fire on him. Hadn’t expected Holly to get attached to  _him_. Hug him like he had always been part of her life and… and… Okay. So maybe he wasn’t exactly sure about this new chance. Happy to have it, sure. But scared to death too. He’d thought he’d known that he was scared. But now he realizes he didn’t. It hadn’t felt real until now.

It’s not a fucking surprise that he wakes up from a nightmare, more like a memory that’s a mix of his mother’s suicide and of today’s events and some sort of terrible prophecy ( _he hopes the latter part is more his fears taking over and not his actual future_ ). He forgets where he is for a brief moment, forgets he’s not alone and that he shouldn’t cry because no one ever sees him cry. He’s learned a long time ago that it’s no use crying where anyone can hear or see because it hurts so much worse when they ignore him. Nothing has ever come of him crying. 

He’s not alone though and he flinches when a hand gently touches his shoulder. The hand disappears but only for a moment as if it isn’t quite sure what to make of the flinch. Yet it comes back to rest there, warm and grounding. The physical reminder that he is not alone forces him to dry the tears, to swallow the sobs. When he is able to drop his hands from his face and look up, Mikey is there which makes sense since it’s his hand on Richie’s shoulder.

What he isn’t expecting is how close the other teen is. He also isn’t expecting what comes next, the tug that pulls him into a solid hug so much so that his face collides with a clothed shoulder and he’s close enough to hear the whispered “I got you, it’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay…”

It’s stupid. The words shouldn’t mean as much as they do and they definitely shouldn’t have the impact on him that they do but Richie can’t help it when the floodgates reopen, his hands fisting in his twin’s shirt as if he’s the only thing anchoring him.

 

tbc...


	8. Chapter 7

            Mike doesn’t sleep the rest of the night. Instead, he stays up, his back pressed to the head of his bed, with Richie’s heavy body resting against his chest and legs. He’d managed to shift them into the current position they are now without waking the other, something that he’s weirdly proud about and grateful for as it had helped ease the back pain to have the added support. Also, because he has a feeling that if he’d woken Richie up, well…

            Mike frowns. He’s not entirely sure he knows how Richie would have reacted. Maybe with an inappropriate joke, a covering of what had happened, and of the emotions he’d shown earlier. Who knows. It didn’t happen and that’s good, he thinks, because it’s clear regardless that Richie is hurting, and maybe, okay not _maybe_ but really _is_ traumatized. 

It’s weird, maybe more than a little fucked up, but Mike can handle traumatized and hurting. He knows what to do with that…knows how to soothe someone from a nightmare, ways to snap them out of a flashback, when to read the slight body cues that means it’s okay to touch or when to back the hell away and simply be there from a few feet away. So he stays still after getting into a slightly more comfortable position and simply guards the other’s sleep. 

            Richie hadn’t cried for very long but it had been a hard cry, and Mike at one point thought he’d even heard something pop. But if that had been Richie’s rib cage, he’d shown no indication of physical pain. And then he’d been out, asleep while still holding onto Mike, fingers loosely curled in Mike’s shirt. 

There had been one point in the night when Mike had felt something akin to El’s presence but he’d shaken his head. That had happened in intermittent bursts during the 353 days, keeping his hope alive yet painful all the same as his logic would always kick in, telling him it was just his imagination. He’d never mentioned it to El but that night, as he watched his brother sleep, he wonders if he should. Maybe he actually  _is_ sensing her. It would be just like the girl to check on him through the Void. Her presence hadn’t stayed overly long but it had soothed him to think of her, mentally going through what he would tell her when he next had the chance.

He knows that the clock is ticking closer to when his alarm will go off. He wonders how the morning will play out when it does and breaks the current peace. Mike knows that one of his legs has fallen asleep under Richie’s weight and wiggling his toes does nothing. He doesn’t even feel it anymore but he knows it’ll hurt like a bitch when blood flow is finally restored. 

It seems strange to know that school is just a couple hours away. He knows that the plan is for them to go to school, “to help Richie integrate and transition as quickly as possible”, if he remembers the CPS worker’s words correctly. He thinks that maybe school can do that but it might just honestly be another shock to the system. 

He knows his peers. He can already feel the stares and the whispers that are going to be surrounding them. He’s not quite sure what the school has been told in terms of Richie’s circumstances or how they’re related but regardless, he knows that the rumor mill is going to run rampant.

Mike feels a chuckle building in his chest. If Richie comes at his peers like he did his family, it’s going to be quite the show. Funny how that actually amuses him right at the moment rather than horrify him like it should. It must be the sleep deprivation finally kicking in. 

            When his alarm does go off just minutes later, it startles him but it’s nothing like it startles Richie who looks like he’s going to fall off the bed with the way he’s jumped up and away. 

            “Shit!” 

            “Morning to you too…” Mike greets with a yawn, slamming his alarm off, and then proceeds to ignore his twin’s huge eyes to start massaging his leg. There’s an indentation on his twin’s cheek where his glasses have pressed into the skin while he slept. Thankfully, it’s not the bruised cheek. Mike looks away. His leg is still numb right now but feels oddly thick and heavy where it’s laying. “If you’re quick enough, you have a 50% chance of beating Nancy to the shower. Which I’d recommend because she takes for-fucking-ever and uses up most of the hot water.” He doesn’t want to make a big deal of what happened last night. He doesn’t want to push the other into sharing. He wants it to unfold at whatever pace it needs to unfold in. Its what had seemed to help Will the most. He looks up and sees Richie still looking at him, eyes looking even wider as his too thick of glasses magnify them. There’s that vulnerability shining through again. There’s also a hard swallow, causing his Adam’s apple to bop up and down. “Or you can hope for the best, I guess.”

            “Why the fuck didn’t you move me?” The question seems pulled out of him against his will.

            “I didn’t want to wake you.” Mike winces as he starts to feel the tingling now. It’s all pins and needles and he can’t help but draw his leg close to his body in futile hope to lessen the discomfort. The movement only makes it worse.

            “Why the hell not?” Richie asks, voice rough, an edge to it. It’s enough to make Mike pause and forget his leg for a bit.

            “Because you looked like you could use the sleep…?”

            “Oh.” There’s a long pause before Richie gets up slowly. “Thanks. I guess.” Then he reaches over and nudges hard at Mike’s leg. “What the hell are you doing anyway?” Mike swats the offending hand away, wincing again at the way the jostling makes the awful sensation run up and down his leg again.

            “My leg’s asleep. You’re bony as fuck, you know!” He’s not sure why that’s funny but apparently it is as Richie just folds in two with peals of laughter. He doesn’t stop. Even when Mike whaps his head with a pillow and Karen walks in then with a mission to get the boys up, fed, and ready for school.  

…

            There’s a loud thump against the door and Nancy’s voice is yelling from the other side.

            “Hey asshole! There are other people needing the bathroom! Hurry it up!”

            “Language!”

            Mike could close his eyes and pretend it’s just a normal morning. He knows it’s not though. He shuts the water off with a flick of his wrist and pulls on his towel to start drying off. His clothes are resting on the side of the sink and the quick movements he makes increase his awareness of how stiff his muscles still are. He wishes he could take a longer shower, a hotter one. He knows though that Nancy is barely going to have tepid water as it is. He sighs and quickly shoves a comb through his hair, barely glancing at the mirror. It’s all fogged up anyway and he doesn’t actually care what he looks like. He’s just going through the motions and hopes that it’ll be enough to pass inspection. God forbid he ever looked disheveled outside of their _perfect_ home.

            When he opens the door to step out of the bathroom a couple minutes later, he’s surprised to find that Nancy isn’t waiting there, bitch glare in place. Richie is though. He scrambles to his feet and looks, well, just awkward. Mike frowns a little at the sight of his twin.

            “You could have gone downstairs you know… you didn’t have to wait.” The other teen gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Okay,” Mike tilts his head and just nudges Richie into following him. It’s odd to have the other be so quiet after how he’d been all of yesterday. “What do you like for breakfast?”

            “…I dunno,” Richie answers after a beat. “I typically didn’t have any.” Mike glances at him for that but decides that’s a question for another time.

            “Okay.” He mumbles instead before sniffing the air and being pretty confident in his ability to identify today’s breakfast. “Well, do you like pancakes?”

            “I guess so. I mean, who the fuck doesn’t like pancakes?” That… is a good question. Mike doesn’t think he knows anyone who doesn’t like them. He shakes his head briefly and covers a yawn one handed.

            “Then you’re in luck.”

            There’s a brief moment when the other teen looks a bit overwhelmed at what’s going on at the breakfast table. He lets himself be directed into a chair and doesn’t say anything as a plate is filled for him. If anything, he just blinks owlishly as Mike pours him a glass of milk and a glass of OJ too. Holly is sipping quietly at her own milk, one chubby hand rubbing at her eyes sleepily.

            “What’s wrong, Richie?” His twin jumps at the question before going back to looking at what’s been set in front of him. Karen looks worried. “Is there something you need? I can make you eggs if you’d rather…”

            “Holy fuck how are you all not obese?!” The exclamation makes Mike snort his milk and he makes a face as the cold liquid shoots up his nose. It’s enough to start a coughing fit and he turns away from the table as he tries to calm it down and to breath like a normal person again.

            “Language…” The admonishment is drawn out as the paper that’s currently hiding Ted is rustled in irritation.

            “Uh huh.” Richie says as if in a daze before slapping Mike’s back. “You okay Mikey-baby?”

            Peachy, he wants to say but his throat is burning and he’s not quite sure he’s done coughing just yet.

            Just another fucking Thursday Morning in the Wheeler house...not.

…

            “Michael, are you listening?”

            “Yeah m-…” Mike stops himself and just nods hard once. “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” He tries instead, foot tapping impatiently, arms crossed protectively in front of him. The backpack straps are digging into his shoulders.

            “Come straight home. No A/V club meeting today, ok?”

            “Yes! I got it! Straight home, you’re bringing Richie to the eye doctor. You’ve told us like five times already! Can we go now?”

            “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?” She asks again for what has to be the billionth time. He’s not sure what other word he can use to say no _again_. So instead of answering with words, he just gives her a dark look before opening the door and walking outside.

            It’s still a bit chilly but he barely pauses to zip up his coat. He wants to get as far away as he can from the open door. He can still hear her fussing and it’s getting under his skin. Richie is close behind though and waves for the both of them as she finally, _finally_ says goodbye. She’s still watching them though from the open door, Holly in her arms whose goodbye sounds so sad and meek in comparison to Karen’s overly cheerful one.

            Mike stands his bike up and hops on, jerking his head to motion for Richie to get on the back.

            “You sure this is big enough to hold us both?” His twin asks before complying. It’s his twin’s second smart question of the day actually and Mike has to work harder to keep the bike upright as Richie slides on behind him and tries to find his balance. They’re both all sharp angles and long legs. It takes a couple of minutes and during the time that they’re stubbornly trying to make this work they’re able to see Nancy get in Jonathan’s car and drive off before they even start pedaling.

            “Jesus,” Mike hisses as he finally pushes off and at the jerking motion, feels Richie nearly fall off, long arms waving wildly about before coming onto hold the metal bar behind his butt. “This was so much easier with El.” Richie’s fingers are suddenly digging into the straps of his backpack and Mike feels the weight of it pulling him down. He’s guessing Richie’s trying to stay on and not fuck up Mike’s own balance. He’s not entirely sure it’s working as they wobble back and forth before finally make it off the fucking driveway.

            “El?” His twin’s chin is back on his shoulder, the question a bit loud in his ear.

            “A friend!” Mike yells back and is thankful that the majority of the trip to school is down hill. “You won’t meet her today. She’s homeschooled.” Mike could hit himself for the slip up but tries to tell himself that Richie will have to be told about El eventually. He’s just not sure of when and how.

            The rest of the trip is spent quietly, which is a blessing. Mike needs all his concentration to get them safely there and is thankful when they arrive at the bike rack. He’s more than a bit winded by that point and lets the bike just roll to where they need to be, letting his feet rest on the pedals.

            Mike’s not surprised to find the Party all there waiting for them, some members more patiently than others.

            “Finally, Wheeler!” Dustin cries, hand pointing at them. “You’re gonna make us late!”

            “Really Dustin?!” Lucas punches him solidly in the upper arm. “That’s how you’re gonna greet them? What happened to being the Hawkins Welcoming Committee?”

            “Hey that hurt, asshole! And the Welcoming Committee can’t be very welcoming if we all get detention for missing first period.”

            “Bullshit! You’ve missed first period before for your fucking curiosity voyages so don’t even…”

            Mike sighs, placing both feet on the ground and waiting for Richie to get off before hopping off himself and slamming his bike into the rack. “Richie,” He motions to each Party member in turn with a flick of the hand. “The two bickering idiots are Dustin and Lucas. Mad Max,” The girl gives a bit of a nod, hand tight on her skateboard. “And this is Will. Everyone, Richie.”

            “Will? The Will-Will of last night? The one with the dulcet tones?” Richie adjusts his glasses, grinning and Mike has to shake his head at both the words and the way his twin sounds, just vaguely flirty and a heck of a lot teasing. Looks like his twin from before last night is back and ready to terrorize everyone, the vulnerable one wrapped away. Will’s face turns bright red and he looks alarmed, taking a slight step back at the sudden attention.

            “Dulcet tones?!” He hears Dustin repeat in a not quite whisper. “What the hell…?”

            “Don’t bother Will, Richie.” Mike mutters, throwing an arm around Richie’s shoulders and tugging him towards the school building. It’s a loose hold but the tug is insistent and causes Richie to swallow whatever he’d been getting ready to say. “The terrible Welcoming Committee was right about one thing, we’re gonna be late. Come on.”

            “But Mikey-baby…” There’s a whining quality to the tone. Still, Richie allows himself to be dragged off, not even reacting to Mike’s exasperated, _“Stop calling me that!”_ The rest of the Party blinks at the two before getting into gear themselves although Max has to snort at Richie’s name for Mike. She has a feeling that their fearless leader can’t be loving it.

            “Mikey-baby?” Lucas mouths, giving Will and Dustin a wild look.

            “I told you we’d be dealing with an evil twin. I fucking told you.”

 

Tbc...

 

Ps. I'm so excited for the new season to start!!!!! 


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8                                            

            Richie is fucking exhausted by the time the last bell calling the school day to a close starts to ring. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d put on the sort of show he’d just put on two days in a row. His muscles ache and his throat feels scratchy. The smile on his face is forced and his cheeks feel tired. He didn’t even know that could happen and he brushes a closed fist against his un-bruised one as a way to furtively massage it. It doesn’t help and so he sighs and drops his hands to his side.

            Still, part of him feels sort of accomplished. None of the teachers had given him a detention _yet_ because he could pull the sympathy card. Recently moved orphan – it’s one hell of a sympathy card. However, each and every one of them, ( _except the science dude that had looked at him with such kind and sad eyes and was clearly a sucker for his brother and his friends_ ), had pulled him aside to give him a stern talking to and veiled promises ( _more like fucking threats_ ) to introduce him to the Principal if he didn’t shape up. He’d thanked them, shaken their hands, and then apologetically explained that there was no need for the introduction. He’d already met the Principal and _his mother_ first thing in arriving to Hawkins, thanks much. And what a lovely woman she was…quite _welcoming_ , if you know what I mean.

            Mikey had only been close enough to hear one of the lectures and had literally squawked, before reaching over and yanking him away. He’d heard the other rush to apologize and mutter something about Richie being _such_ a joker. He’s still muttering about it now as they make their way to the bike rack.

            “I can’t believe the shit that comes out of your mouth sometimes!” Richie watches as his twin shakes his head vigorously.

            “I wasn’t called Trashmouth Tozier for nothing.” That causes both Mikey and Will to pause and glance back at him. Will looks knowing and sad at hearing the nickname while Mikey has a weird expression on his face that makes Richie’s throat tighten so hard that he can’t even try and explain that he’d taken that title back right from his bullies’ hands and made it his own with some pride attached, thanks very much.

            He’d been _damned_ right to be scared of Mikey the most. But if there’s one front he feels he’s already failed, it’s on that one. He’s totally and helplessly already attached to his twin. The mama’s boy won him over last night. Maybe even before then. If they get separated now, Richie’s not sure what he’ll do…

            “Who called you that?!” Mikey demands, protective streak shining through.

            “Everyone.” Richie shrugs and looks away, kicking a stone out of his path.

            “Well, screw them.” Mikey mutters almost viciously before continuing out of the school. Will gives Richie another little smile before following his friend closely.             Apparently, they’re all meeting up at the bike rack before splitting up even though Mikey had already shared during lunch that he and Richie needed to get home ASAP in order to run errands. It seems partly like tradition. Partly like they’re all worried something will happen if they leave one of the Party alone. It should feel a bit weird. Like, what the fuck could happen in a small town like Hawkins? But Richie knows way too much about small towns so he doesn’t question it. Plus with what he’d heard from earlier today, it seems safer regardless. He simply follows the two and then leans on the bike rack as they wait for the last three to join them.

            Richie has had all day to observe Mikey and his friends. He’s more interested in watching his twin, more like pulled to, and he feels like he’s learned a lot already. He has to admit that when they’d pulled up at the school first thing in the morning, he’d been just a bit freaked out at seeing the group that makes up his twin’s “Party”.

            There was something about them that reminded him a bit too much of the Losers and that hurt. Even the make up of the group for fucks sake: a black dude, tiny waif like dude ( _Will’s missing the tiny shorts though and Richie has a hard time imagining him pulling them off like Ol’ Eds does)_ , the brainy historian/scientist, and the girl even had to be a redhead too. It was just the first shock at seeing them. After all, they weren’t the Losers. They weren’t even really like them personality wise. A little too goody-good ( _not that the Losers hadn’t been but maybe they’d been less nerdy? With the exception of Ben and Stanley, of course_ ). And fuck, he didn’t want to think of them. He didn’t want to miss his friends as much as he did because he had no idea of whether he’d ever see them again.

            So he’d watched them all day to find all the differences and try and make sense of the dynamic between them all. He knows that they’d all been watching him back, each looking away when the other started to look in order to avoid being caught, like a ping pong match of eyes. It’d have been funny but it just added to Richie’s nervous energy and he could honestly say he hadn’t really taken in anything academic all day. It’s also why he’d been unable to keep his mouth shut and even attempt at having a filter with the teachers. Or anyone really. Even sitting still for minutes at a time had been torturous.

            In any case, there are a couple things that become pretty clear straight off the bat.

            They’re nerdy as all get out. Like the hard core D&D playing, part of the A/V club kinda nerdy. He’d already called NERD ALERT on Dustin several times throughout the day to the point that Lucas had finally erupted with a _“Don’t you ever fucking shut up?!”_ To which Mikey had glared at his friend before replying tartly, _“I already asked if he has a mute button but he said no. Just chill…”_

            Richie thinks the nerd alerts are good for them to be honest. Dustin had been fucking updating him on all the research he’d done on twins for god’s sake and how clearly Mikey-Mike and Richie were an anomaly because they were _so_ different from one another while still clearly being identical. He needed to be called out on it. Especially when a psychology textbook with a chapter on the fucking subject, clearly marked, had been pulled out from a tattered backpack.

            Red, or Mad Max or even Zoomer as they called her was probably the least nerdy of them all. She was a bit badass and he’s still wondering why and how the fuck she’s come to be a part of his brother’s group to be honest. He even gets mildly ( _but the emotion is real and it’s so different from the fear and the numbness and the hurt and the exhaustion that he doesn’t recognize it at first)_ excited at the prospect of having an arcade buddy as he loses himself in a debate about which game is better with her: Street Fighter or Dig Dug.

            They apparently got a little too into the conversation because that’s when he realizes something else. Lucas and Max are a _thing,_ ladies and gentlemen. It’s gotta be a recent thing too because man is that guy insecure and they’re both adorably awkward about it. Like it’s not completely obvious how into each other they are. It had only taken him until lunch to realize the whole couple-vibe from the two of them. In his defense, he’d been a bit thrown at the way she kept calling Lucas Stalker. Not a pet name he would have chosen for a significant other but to each their own he supposes.

            So when Richie realizes that he’s making Lucas-my man, jealous, he comments on it and pats his shoulder and tries to reassure him that he’s not making a move on Red. He simply is enjoying a less nerdy moment and how does she even function with these guys? The question doesn’t go down very well but that leads to another discovery.

            Will may be quiet and all tiny but he’s clearly got the putting out emotional fires in the group down pat. Richie thanks him for the trouble by pinching his cheek and saying in a Southern drawl that he’s _quite the cutie pie_. Cue in Mikey to the rescue and that’s when Richie starts to wonder if Mikey-baby just has a protective streak in him a mile wide or if its person specific.

            When he asks the question, Richie has to admit that he wasn’t expecting the group to exchange looks while Mikey ignores all of them and just glares at Richie as if the question is fucking offensive.

            _“What? No! I don’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“Huh.” Dustin had muttered in a very clear, I’m pondering this question very seriously. “That would explain things.”_

_“What?! Shut up.”_

_“Well it would!”_

            Nobody really says anything else about _that_ topic but Richie can’t help but notice that Max looks way too amused and Will looks pensive following the exchange.

            The other thing that he learns is that Will has been apparently through hell and back. The students of Hawkins Middle School are just as empathic as they were in Derry, Maine and apparently their bullies just as creative. Zombie boy, fairy, freak… he hears them all throughout the day and sees his twin bristle _every_ damn time and get into Will’s personal space as if his tall lanky self can block the words from touching the other. Will doesn’t overtly react to the name-calling but he does give Mikey little smiles and nudges as if to say, its okay.

            It’s really not.

            It’s even less so when Dustin and Lucas end up pulling Richie to the side to give him a brief yet rapid run down of the “wildly” public knowledge of Will going missing one and half years ago, being declared dead, only to be found alive days later. The story feels like it’s incomplete but even the bare minimum makes Richie go cold from head to toe. It’s the first time during the school day that Richie says fuck it internally and reaches out for Mikey.

            Mikey-baby.

            He needs to feel grounded and so he literally walks away from the other two mid sentence and jogs to catch up to his twin. When he does, he throws both arms around his neck and slumps all of his weight forward, knowing from all the interactions and observations that Mikey isn’t going to let him fall. He’ll take on the added weight. And if that isn’t a fucking metaphor for something, Richie doesn’t know what is. Mikey pitches forward a bit before recovering with a loud and startled sounding grunt; stopping in his tracks and craning his neck back to see what’s going on.

            _“Please tell me that there’s no clowns here, please.”_ He’d meant to ask his twin if there was a pattern of kids going missing every 25 to 27 years but that hadn’t quite come out right. The only response he’d gotten was a clear _what the fuck?_ _bitch face_ that he’s starting to think is genetic because he’s pretty sure that Nancy made that very same face at him at least twice during breakfast earlier today. Still, Mikey had simply patted his arm briefly as if trying to be reassuring while also clearly thinking Richie is as insane as the fucking Mad Hatter. But he’d taken Richie’s weight, hadn’t even commented on it, and had continued walking all the while supporting ( _mother fucking dragging_ ) Richie to their next class.

            Yeah. It’s gonna be a right bitch if they’re separated…

            Richie is shaken from his musing of all of today’s events and observations as Will leans over to him and asks him quietly if he’s okay. He blinks at the shorter boy and fiddles with adjusting his glasses instead of answering right away. He thinks he has enough energy to come up with one of his Voices to respond to Will but then the rest of the gang is here and he simply gives Will a wan smile and a half shrug as answer.

            Will’s large light brown eyes look a bit worried but he smiles back before letting his attention get drawn away by his friends.

            Richie zones out again and so he misses as the group touches base about tomorrow and possible weekend plans. He only comes to again when two new voices ring out in a way that makes Richie’s stomach plummet. He’s heard this kind before and it’s never good news for him or for other losers, nerds, geeks, you name it.

            For a moment, he thinks Big Bill is with him saying _“Shit, it’s Bowers,”_ but it’s Mikey that’s next to him, straightening up, saying “Shit, it’s Troy…” He sounds just as resigned and fed up as his friend had sounded back in the day.

            At first glance, this Troy character has nothing on Bowers. At least, Troy seems to be closer to their age and not a fucking High Schooler whose father had been a cop. He also only has one sidekick instead of fucking three. But the mean ugly look on his face is very reminiscent of Richie’s bully and it does nothing to relieve the cramping in his stomach. He moves closer to Mikey and feels the tension vibrating in his twin’s skinny frame.

            “Well, if it isn’t Frogface, Midnight, Toothless, and Fairy boy.” Troy sneers at them, one hand clearly fiddling with something in his pocket. “And oh wait…the rumors _are_ true! There’s now two frogs! Although with those fucking ugly glasses maybe Bug boy is a better name, what do you think?” The other guffaws and says something but Richie has to roll his eyes.

            This is seriously old and he’s tired of this shit and he’s tired of feeling scared.

            “Yeah well your momma thinks it’s hot as shit and wasn’t complaining when I visited her last night. So why don’t you go fuck yourself and leave us alone.” The words are back, flowing freely, and he watches as the bully’s face turns red with anger. He doesn’t hear the response. Knows it’s spoken because he sees that mouth open but honestly, he doesn’t need to hear it. Based on the nicknames that the guy had come up with, he’s not only a racist homophobe but also dull. He’s probably telling Richie off for bringing his momma up in this _game_ …

            He continues to be insulting. He’s not as surprised as he should be when there’s a pocketknife that comes into play. So that’s what the fucker had been playing with. Bowers had one too. He remembers a bloody H carved in Ben’s stomach. He remembers the heavy weight those sharp fuckers have, feels it as if it’s in his hand instead of in the bully’s hand.

            And just like that the smell of blood and vomit fills his nose. He’s no longer in Hawkins. He’s no longer outside a new school surrounded by people he’s just met. He’s back in the bathroom, on the cold wet bloody floor, his mother’s still body unresponsive beside him. He’s in his house. In Derry. And no… no…no, no, no…

            He’s pushed aside and then yanked back before the other can take a swipe at him and it forces him back to where he actually is. There’s yelling and hands are holding him up and back. One in particular is gripping him hard in his injured arm and he can feel his stitches being torn apart. He’s yelling because it fucking hurts but at the same time, there’s a part of him that knows that it’s this red hot pain that’s keeping him from getting stuck in that particularly hellish memory loop.

            He’s also yelling because now that he can see again, it’s sinking in that it’s not Mikey who’s holding him back. No. It’s everyone else because Mikey is right ahead of him, having tackled Troy to the ground and they’re fighting hard core.

            The sound of fists hitting flesh and bone is more disturbing then they make it out to be in the movies. It’s down right vomit inducing and it makes him want to turn away.

            “Mike! Mike!” That’s Will’s voice, screaming. “Mike stop!”

            “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…” That must be Dustin.

            “Get him, Mike!” And that must be Lucas.

            Max is simply speechless, frozen beside them, but her eyes are tracking both the fight and looking for something, _anything_ , that can be used to help Mike out in that moment.

 

Tbc

 

Author's note: What did everyone think of the new season??? O.O' I think I'm still in shock. Thank you everyone for taking the time to read this story!!! I would love to hear from y'all. :) 

 

 


	10. Chapter 9

 Chapter 9                                         

 

            Mike sees red and reacts, no thought, no fear. There’s just anger. The anger that’s been with him since everything has gone down and it fuels him, burning through his veins with adrenaline. Its different then when they’d been in the cafeteria one and a half years ago, listening to their Principal talk about grief and Troy had been joking around, laughing, even though he didn’t know that Will was _actually_ alive like Mike, Dustin, and Lucas did. He’d been laughing and joking around despite truly believing that Will was dead. El’s presence had played the catalyst to his anger then, making him braver than he’d ever been. He hadn’t wanted to _seriously_ hurt the guy then, just get him to shut up. But now…

            He’s fucking done taking shit from Troy and James. He’s had enough of feeling powerless, of feeling out of control. He snarls in Troy’s face as his body continues to move on it’s own, fist raining down on that perpetually smug face. It’s not so smug now, lip split with bloody bubbles sliding down each side. There’s tears mixing with it but it means nothing to Mike in that moment.

            Not after the way Troy had tried to go after Richie with the same knife he’d attacked Dustin with, claiming to save his friend from a trip to the dentist and help him with his teeth situation. Not after the way Richie had gone abruptly silent and completely white, eyes wide and distant. Not after the way Troy had continued to go after Will with hurtful taunts and slurs once it was clear that El had “disappeared” following Will’s return.

            All the years of torment, the shoves, the taunts, the threats, the knife to Dustin’s throat, the way he’d laughed a year and half ago – it’s all there with each hit. And it’s not just Troy. Every bad man, every demodog, even Hopper and his lies, and his fucking parents – non-parents, whatever the fuck they are… all the anger towards each and every one of them is what’s feeding this rage.

            There are hands that are grabbing at his shoulders, trying to pull him off but he just starts to kick instead, a little angry thrill running up his spine at seeing the way Troy curls up at the impact.

            “You fucking come near him, near us, near _any_ of us, and I will fucking END you!” Mike is yelling towards Troy even as he’s being yanked off. “Let go, fucking let go of me!” He tries to twist out of the hold. But the hands are clearly adult and though Mike’s been growing and is as tall as some of the adults in his life, he’s still not fully-grown. The man that’s pulling him off Troy is.

            He’s one of the school coaches and his grip is painfully hard as he gets Mike further and further away from the downed bully. Mr. Clarke is there too and there’s so much more to the yelling now that Mike can finally understand. He’d heard it before but it had seemed like a dull roar compared to the way the rage and his heart racing had been beating in his ears.

            “That’s enough!” The coach is yelling. He’s not sure if it’s towards him or if it’s to the whole group. It does jack shit though and Mike lets himself get dragged away from the chaos.

            The fight is over. It’s time to shove the anger back down. To box it up again and simply breathe. In and out. Over and over again. In and out.

            Put the mask back on Wheeler. There’s gonna be shit to pay…

…

            Dustin and Lucas are yelling the loudest, trying to explain how the fight broke out and how Mike’s really not the instigator and the whole school is shit if they somehow end up blaming it on him. Troy and James are the fucking worst and have been bullying them for ages. Other stories of past incidents are being shared, words running on top of the other in such a way that if anyone can make sense of them, well fucking kudos to them. James is standing there, wide eyed and seemingly in shock, not saying a single thing to defend himself or his fallen buddy who’s still curled up on the ground and whimpering.

            They’ve both let go of Richie by that point, running to surround Mr. Clarke instead physically along with their explanations. Will is still holding onto Richie’s shirt though and is trembling where he is. Yet he’s the one who forces them to take the first step forward when it becomes clear that the fight has been broken up and Mikey is being pulled away from them all and back to the school.

            It’s a relief to suddenly be moving again although there’s panic starting to seep back in. Whoever the man is that has a hold of his twin, he’s strong and he’s fast and he looks pissed.

            Will may have been the one to trigger the movement but Richie’s the one who increases the speed to the point where they’re half running, half tripping down the path. His calls to the teacher to _slow down_ and _wait_ go by unheeded and Mikey’s disappeared from view by the time they reach the door.

             By the time Will and Richie enter the school, they find themselves dealing with empty hallways. Will pauses before decidedly turning towards where Richie can only assume the Principal’s office is located. The school is still a fucking maze to him. The sound of their squeaking sneakers on the tiled floors seems overly loud with a slight echo quality that makes him wish for the crowded bustle of earlier. 

            It doesn’t take too long to get to the correct final destination. Just a couple of turns and then they see the teacher, standing right next to a closed door, arms crossed against his chest. Mikey’s no longer with him and instead there’s a woman looking up at the man anxiously and nodding at whatever is being said. It’s clear that she’s being updated on what just took place and that they are coming up with a master plan. It seems fucked up as the second half of the guilty party is still outside. He wonders if because Mikey seemed the clear winner of the physical altercation that they’re going to pin the entire thing on him and him alone. 

            That would be to be expected from the interactions he’s had with the adults in his life. Unfair and complete with bull shit. He braces himself before he reaches them, knowing that he’s going to have quite a bit of a fight ahead of him. He’s startled a handful of minutes later when Mr. Clarke joins them, having dropped Troy off to the nurse’s office, and provides a different perspective. Lucas, Dustin, and Red join the fray and it feels a bit chaotic.

            They end up learning that the holdup in delivering the consequences is that the Principal stepped out for a meeting with the PTA and they know that parents have to be contacted. Still, Richie persists in asking to actually be allowed to be with  _his_ twin while they figure out the best plan of action. He’s not sure what it is that they see on his face that makes them relent finally. He only knows that he’s shaking a bit with relief he thinks, when he’s allowed to walk in the office.

            Mikey’s sitting in the chair, head tilted back so that it’s leaning against the wall, his eyes closed. His one leg is bouncing up and down and his bloodied hand is being jostled with the movement but it doesn’t mask the way Mikey is clenching and unclenching his fingers in a fist. His one cheek is redder than the other and Richie wonders when Troy managed to get a lucky punch in. There’s the odd thought, inappropriate, floating through that it’s the _right_ cheek. They’ll have twin bruises but Mikey’s will be newer, fresher, brighter while Richie’s is fading fast with every passing day.

            He wonders if it hurts or if Mikey, full of adrenaline vs. the shock that he’d felt the night he got his, doesn’t even feel it at all. He hadn’t felt his until much later.

            Richie sits down next to him, fingers going to pick the clenching and unclenching hand up and examine it. That startles Mikey into opening his eyes, hand jerking away, and it’s clear that he’d been assuming a teacher or even that the Principal had come into the office. He hadn’t expected to be touched. Merely lectured.

            “I’m fine…” Mikey mutters but frowns as he looks at Richie. “You’re _really_ pale though. Are you okay? Shit, you’re bleeding. Did you know that?” And then his twin is standing up and heading to the door, yanking it open to yell outside. “My brother’s hurt! He’s bleeding!” It’s clear the news isn’t what the teachers were expecting and silences them from whatever they’d most likely have yelled back at him. Maybe to sit down and shut up and wait for them to finish planning whatever punishment is coming his way. One of them does break the silence to say she’s getting the nurse and Mikey nods at that before going back to where he’d been told to wait. It happens so quickly that Richie is still sitting where he is, simply stuck watching again.

            “You’re hurt too.” He finally says quietly. “My knight in _fucking_ shining armor.” There’s a pause. “What the hell were you thinking?” Mikey blinks at that unsure what to react to first. The new title ( _that really doesn’t seem complimentary the way Richie chewed it out_ ) or the question. His silence just seems to increase Richie’s frantic energy. “You could have been seriously hurt!”

              “And so could you have… did…apparently. Troy had no fucking right to go after you or our family the way he did.” Mikey says rather briskly ( _if he thinks too long about the way Troy’s voice had rung out,_ Bet their mom couldn’t handle having two frogs and that’s why one of them got the boot! _, he’s gonna fucking snap again_ ), before jerking his hand to motion Richie’s wrist. It’s just a bit of the bandage that’s poking out but it’s clearly soaked and reddening fast. “What happened?”

            Richie brings the wrist to his chest a bit protectively, slight shrug as his initial response. “Some stitches probably broke…” Comes out all mumbled and he watches as Mikey’s eyebrow arches high in his forehead.

            “How?”

            “Dustin or Lucas? I don’t know… one of them held me back by this arm.” Mikey winces.

            “I’m sorry.” He offers quietly. “I’m guessing adding pressure to it, isn’t what’s going to be recommended at this point?”

            “Who the fuck knows…”

…

            A couple hours later finds Richie stitched back up and with a clean new bandage. The nurse had kept a very calm demeanor when she’d unwrapped the bandage and Richie had made sure to keep his eyes on her face to avoid seeing Mikey’s expression when he saw his arm and came to the correct conclusion as to what the injury means. Meant. Whatever. The nurse’s own expression, despite calm, seems sad. When she leaves them, it’s with a message to Mikey to keep taking care of his brother and a quick squeeze to Richie’s shoulder with a reminder to take the pain killer. It’ll help with the stinging. He can’t help but take in the way Mikey nods seriously at what he’s being told.

            A couple hours later, also finds them still in the same office but in the presence of one shocked, disappointed, and _very_ angry Karen Wheeler and the Principal himself. The story is laid out and Richie is somewhat surprised that Mr. Clarke and the gang have come through for them in a big way. There’s a bit of _boys will be boys_ in the Principal’s story telling of the version but he also seems to acknowledge that there’s a history of Troy bullying them and that Mikey’s reaction this time was simply to fight back.

            Not that fighting on school grounds is acceptable. Nor is the use of language that he’s been hearing stories about when it comes to Richie. There’s a sterner tone that speaks loud and clearly then and that’s when Richie knows that the consequences are about to fall on them big time, sympathy card be damned.

            He’s a bit surprised when that all gets hijacked as the Chief of Police and this harried looking woman barge in with no fucking warning. The woman is demanding that Mikey get expelled for what he’s done to her poor _innocent_ boy while the Chief looks just a little exasperated and tired. The fighting amongst the adults that occurs then leads Mikey and Richie to get booted out of the office much to Richie’s relief. It was getting a bit too crowded and loud in there for it to be comfortable. However, glancing at Mikey, he notices that his twin looks very resistant at the idea of leaving the office and he keeps glancing back until the door is closed behind them with a distinct click.

            “Shit Mike, was that Hopper that just came in? With Troy’s mom?! Oh man, shit shit, shit… is she pressing charges?” Dustin’s voice hits him first and Richie finds that they left one crowded room for one suddenly crowded hallway. He sighs and lets himself lean against the wall and sag down to the floor. He’s done for the day.

            Over and Out.

Tbc...  


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

            The second explosion doesn’t happen in the tense car ride home. It doesn’t even happen right when they enter the home. There’s an ominous silence that follows Aunt Karen’s jerky motions as she starts to make dinner and it makes Richie wish that they could be back at school. There had been more allies there weirdly enough. And really, all in all, they were getting away relatively scot-free.

            Yeah, they’d been asked to take tomorrow _off_ to give Richie and Mikey more time to adjust to the major life changes they were dealing with and yes, Mikey would be serving detention during lunch and during what would have been his A/V club meetings for the next week ( _Troy would be serving detention too, same length of time but in another part of the school. Score for some minor miracles and victories_ ) but it could have been so much worse.

            No charges were being pressed because the Chief had plainly turned to both of them at some point and asked if they’d like to press charges on Troy for harassment and for bringing a weapon to school and trying to use said weapon on school grounds. That had shut up Troy’s mother at least for a moment before she’d threatened to complain to the higher ups about Chief Hopper. Good Old Hopper. He’d merely looked amused and bored at the same time, responding with a “Good luck with that” muttered her way before he’d tipped his hat to the Principal and made it clear, that he at least was done at this point with his time being wasted on a school fight.

            Still, the way Aunt Karen had walked them to the car and hadn’t said one word to them didn’t bode well. Richie had been quite right to think another explosion was incoming ( _fully knowing that his own parents wouldn’t have given two fucks if they’d been the ones pulled into this type of situation. Hell, they wouldn’t have picked up the damn phone and if they had, they still wouldn’t have bothered to show up to meet with the Principal on his behalf)_. It’s not past experience with his folks that are providing him with this keen insight. It’s more like years of turning reading body language into not just an art but a much needed survival skill.

            The second explosion comes once Ted Wheeler comes home, is updated with the situation, and the entire family sits down for dinner but it really feels more like it’s a fucking trial. The resigned look on Mikey’s face shows that he’s not surprised in the slightest and is just waiting for whatever to be thrown his way. It starts off quiet, the angry and disappointed rebuke shared in careful words spoken in a clear _these are our inside voices_ and Richie thinks it’s the most civilized thing he’s had the opportunity to witness. It doesn’t stay that way when Aunt Karen, after glancing at her husband who’s been joining in here and there with his _again_ off the mark sports team comments ( _what the hell are those about anyway? The guy doesn’t look like he’d been on any sports team at any point in his life but he sure acts like he was a hot stuff pro athlete._ ), hands down the verdict. Grounded for two weeks, at least 3 boxes of his stuff to be donated, and his supercomm taken away until he can show changes in his behavior.

            That’s when it becomes a shit show. Mikey visibly pales before he erupts verbally. It all goes down hill from there, the length of his punishment getting extended, and he’s sent to his room but not before having to hand over the supercomm ( _which seems to be the whole cause of the explosion in the first place as he’d looked practically bored at the 3 boxes bit_ ). The entire house seems to reverberate with the tremors of that particular bedroom door slamming shut behind him.

            Aunt Karen looks more upset now then mad, hopeless even, but she puts a brave face back on before glancing at Richie, who’s still frozen at the table. Nancy had left minutes earlier after trying to argue for Mikey’s case in keeping the stupid supercomm and having been ignored. She’d taken Holly with her, which was good cause that poor kid...

            “I’m so sorry Richie…” As if he hasn’t played a role in this at all. He’s still waiting for that particular shoe to drop though. The whole, _you’ve caused enough trouble, we really can’t deal with you_ or _it’s all your fault our perfect son lost his temper and got into a fistfight_. But it never does. Aunt Karen clearly didn’t share his language use with the teachers or his role in the whole fight with Troy to Ted. Her husband is back to eating placidly, as if this was just a normal dinner night. Never mind that two of his children have yelled and left the table angry, and that the third is off crying somewhere with the eldest. “You should eat.” She says quietly. “It’ll be okay, I promise. Mike is always quick to calm down.”

            He’s never felt less hungry and after a minute or two of watching the two adults go back to playing pretend that everything is fine, he gets up from the table and walks up the stairs. He’s not sure if Mikey’s gonna be okay with him entering the room but he also doesn’t know where else to go.

            So after waiting awkwardly for a moment or two, he opens the door and enters quietly.

…

            Mike’s looking out the window, wishing that he could somehow get Lucas’ attention to be able to update him on the whole situation. But Lucas’ bedroom window doesn’t show his friend and Mike’s unsure if he’s even home yet. For all he knows, his friend could be at the arcade with Dustin and Max. After all, _they_ hadn’t been involved in the fight. They weren’t getting in trouble with the school or with their parents.

            Mike’s fuming still but he knows its not going to get him anywhere with his parents – legal guardians – whatever the fuck they are, at this point. No. He knows that the only thing that will get him anywhere with them is to keep his fucking head down and basically not exist.

            There’s panic behind the hurt and anger though. He’s never been without his supercomm except for a handful of nights when he’d been with Will dealing with the whole Mind Flayer business. He’d been so busy then that he’d never even had time to register it’s absence. It probably had helped that Will’s own supercomm had been present and within easy reach, at least when they’d still been at Will’s house. A reassurance that if shit went down somewhere else, Dustin and Lucas could still reach them and vice a versa. He could also still call out to El…

            But now that’s gone.

            And she doesn’t even know why. Last night it had been planned for him not to call but tonight? Tonight, she’s expecting him to reach out and give her an update and he can’t. He’s never felt so cut off from her and the rest of the Party before. And it’s his own fault. He’s so stupid. So fucking stupid. Yet he’s not sure that he would change anything if he could go back in time and was presented with the same situation.

            The door to his bedroom opens and he glances back to confirm that it is indeed Richie and not anyone else. He doesn’t think he can handle it if it’s anyone else.

            “Hey…” His twin seems to hesitate in the doorway. “Is it okay if I come in?”

            “Yeah…” Mike answers, briefly looking back out the window before turning away to face his twin fully. “It’s your room too.”

            “Yeah but…” There’s a slight frown and then a shrug before he moves deeper into the room and closes the door behind him with a nudge from his foot. He’s slow in making his way to his bed and Mike takes the time to look him over.

            It’s easier to tap into the concern for another person then to think about El and how he’s messed everything up again. It’s easier because Richie is right here and still so very pale and Mike’s always done better when he can take care of someone else then left to his own thoughts. Mike’s stomach lurches slightly despite having eaten nothing because the pale face brings him back to thinking about what’s hidden under the bandage on his twin’s arm. His eyes are briefly drawn there despite himself.

            Mike’s never seen stitches before then and though he’d known that in theory it was string pulling skin together, he’d never really thought about how they were put in. The dark stitches against the pale skin had seemed so real. It’s a stupid observation to make but he hadn’t been able to look away as the school nurse had started unwrapping his twin’s arm and had tsked softly at seeing that yes, some of Richie’s stitches had indeed been stretched wide and snapped. The barely healing skin pulled apart by the very string that had been keeping the two pieces together. The cut looks angry and deep, flushing part of the skin red but not in a healthy looking way. More like irritated and inflamed. But he’s not sure how much of the color was also due to the drying blood that had been crusting at the sides.

            He hadn’t been able to look away when the nurse after disinfecting the area and injecting Richie with a local anesthetic ( _Who knew that school nurses had access to that shit anyway? But apparently, the ones in Hawkins, did)_ , she had simply taken what looked like a normal enough needle and started stitching his brother back up. Richie had winced here and there but overall had held himself remarkably still while she worked. All of it had taken a handful of minutes and then all had been re-hidden under carefully applied bandages.

            Hiding away the evidence that Richie had tried to take his own life.

            Irritating and bigger than life, hurting and traumatized Richie.

            Mike moves over in silent invitation for his twin to join him on his own bed and it’s accepted after a brief pause. Richie makes his way over, careful not to use his injured arm as he crawls from his bed to Mike’s and Mike opens his mouth to ask _something_ about the injury, about the twin darkness that his brother also apparently has hidden deep within but then closes it. He’d made the decision earlier today to not push. He’s going to stick with it.

            But he also knows that he’s going to have to try harder to not be a complete ass and to not make things harder and more complicated then they already are. He’s not really surprised when Richie leans into him. The guy is really overly tactile and he’s broken through any of Mike’s usual defenses and hesitance about being all touchy. The two lean against each other quietly for a heartbeat or two, both lost in their own musings.

            “So… was that normal?” Richie breaks the silence, because of course he does. Silence is oppressive to him while calming at times for Mike who needs it in order to make sense of his thoughts and feelings.

            “Hm? What was?” Because to Mike, a lot of things that happened today are clearly abnormal while some are very much normal. And Richie could be asking about any one of them.

            “I’ve been here all of two days and dinner always seems to end in a screaming match.” Mike blinks at the observation and a wry smile pulls at his lips. It’s without amusement but still it’s there.

            “No, it’s not really normal. Dinner is mainly mo-Aunt Karen trying to get us all to talk. For the most part, we tend to leave each other alone and do our own thing.” Like Wheeler senior sleeping with the television on in the living room while _Aunt_ Karen is on the phone, wine glass in hand if Holly isn’t home or is already in bed. And Nancy is either up in her bedroom on the phone when her mother isn’t hogging the line or who is who knows where with her boyfriend. How to capture the growing distance between all of them behind the picture perfect family façade?

            Mike wonders briefly if the distance is growing or if it’s just finally apparent to him as he’s growing up. Part of him wants to think it’s more of a recent change due to everything that’s happened but another part of him thinks that he’s been blind to a lot of things. “But it’s also…” He shrugs, not knowing how much to get into it. “If a fight does happen here, it typically does happen during meal times.”

            “Huh…why?”

            “Probably because it’s when we’re all home. Meal times are family times.” Mike explains. There’s another pause and Richie seems to get heavier against him, as if he’d been holding up at least part of his weight and then decided it wasn’t worth the effort anymore. Mike shifts against the change, bearing the brunt of it, his elbows digging deeper into his own crossed legs where they’re resting. “What was it like for you? Before…and you can tell me to shove it, if you don’t want to talk about it.” He rushes to add. Richie remains a limp weight against him.

            “Different.” He says finally, tone subdued. “No family meals, no united parental front or joint parent lectures… I mainly was on my own or with the… with my friends.” It’s not overly surprising with the way Richie seems to be just a little off when the whole family sits down to do anything. Like he knows it’s a thing and he can fake it well enough to transition somewhat seamlessly into the routine but it’s also weird and alien to him all at the same time. “Mikey?”

            “Yeah…?”

            “What happened a couple months ago?”

            The question makes sense after Mike takes a moment to think it through and remind himself of what had played into his guilty verdict from the Senior Wheelers tonight. It’s not the first time he’s acted out and they haven’t forgotten it. They won’t let him forget it either. Mike sighs, wishing suddenly that Richie wasn’t leaning so heavily against him. If he weren’t, Mike would just let himself fall back to let his mattress do the catching.

            “I did some stupid things.”

            “You mama’s boy? Knight in shining armor?” Richie’s words are quiet and serious as if he can’t picture Mike doing anything stupid in his head.

            “Will wasn’t doing that great and everyone was acting like everything was just… normal. I lost it and told a teacher off, fudged a paper, and I may have written something unflattering on the bathroom stall about said teacher.” Richie snorts at the last addition.

            “ _Everyone_ writes on the bathroom stalls.”

            “Tell that to the Wheelers. I think they called it graffiti.” Richie’s continued mirth at that helps pull a little smile from Mike too. It is kind of ludicrous looking back on it all. It hadn’t been at the time.

            They fall back in amicable silence, Mike looking around his room and wondering what he’ll be throwing out next that’ll appease his guardians. Richie is lost in thought that even when his twin loses it, it can probably always be tied back to someone else not doing well or that he’s doing something to help them. Figures.

            “Mikey?” His voice breaks the silence again and he feels his twin startle under his cheek at the sudden intrusion.

            “Yeah?”

            “Can you promise me something?”

            “I can try…” Mike offers. Promises are a sacred thing. They’re unbreakable vows in his mind and he’s already come too close to breaking some big ones already in his short life. He doesn’t want to make one that he can’t keep. Those kind of broken promises hurt the worse. “What is it?” He prompts finally, when Richie stays silent a bit too long.

            “Don’t ever leave me.”

…

            “Well, that could have gone better.” Dustin mutters, taking his hat off briefly to run a hand through his wildly curly hair. He stuffs it back on with a sigh and glances at the rest of his friends. They’re in Will’s room, all of them taking a spot on his small bed.

            Will’s right smack in the upper center, his back resting on his pillows, glancing down at his hands. Lucas and Max are on his right side, both of them kneeling on the bed and leaning into one another. Dustin’s facing them, half on and half off the bed in a weird twist that lets one of his feet touch the floor while the other is bent underneath him. He’s able to see all of them that way but the position allows him to still be on full alert.

            He can’t lie. There’s a lot of adrenaline still running through him and he doesn’t quite know how to let it go and relax like the others are doing. He keeps looking at each of them in turn because it’s better than checking his hands for the thousandth time to make sure that he’d really scrubbed the blood off. He hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten blood there until Lucas had punched him hard in the shoulder and pointed it out. And that had freaked him right out as he’d stared uncomprehending at the red liquid painting his fingers. After a string of _Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god_ alongside of a bit of cursing that Mr. Clarke had in his grace turned a deaf ear to, Will had managed to drag him to the bathroom and helped him clean up and come up with an explanation of where the blood could have come from since it was clearly not his. Fucking Richie…

            “It also could have been worse.” Max adds carefully, her hand dropping Lucas’ when she notices that Dustin’s sweeping gaze has stopped to rest on their entwined hands. She’s not sure if it’s the act of dropping Lucas’ hand or her words that causes him to look back up at her face.

            “Yeah? Cause I think a fist fight that gets the Chief of Police involved on his first freaking day here is already right up there in terms of _bad_.” The waving of hands to punctuate his point makes her want to duck her head even though she knows she isn’t close enough to Dustin for his flailing to actually reach her. It’s just something about the wild movement that puts her on edge all the while making her want to fight the urge to both roll her eyes and smile at her friend too. He really is one for being dramatic. More so than the others. Lucas tilts his head towards Dustin as if considering the point.

            “Oh come on, it’s Chief Hopper. He’s on _our_ side. And it’s not like Richie asked Wheeler to get into a fist fight on his behalf.” She points out. Someone has too. Dustin is clearly way too into his theory that Richie is evil incarnate or the bringer of the next Hawkins apocalypse. She actually likes Richie. He’s funny. Sure, a little on the obnoxious side, but in her mind’s view, most guys were to some extent or another. At least, he seemed like he’d be a good verbal sparring partner and possibly more of a competition at the Arcade than her current boys.

            “That’s true but did he _have_ to go at Troy like that about his mom? He was like throwing gas on a little camp fire.” She does roll her eyes then, pushing her hair back and out of her face with a bit of impatience.

            “Oh as if Troy wasn’t dishing it right back. The guy is a fucking mouth breather that’s been bothering you guys for years. He was totally asking for it!” The others don’t say anything to that but Will’s been awfully quiet about the entire thing. It’s partly why after Dustin, Lucas, and Max had decided that maybe staying together for a couple more hours before _needing_ to go home would be for the best. It’s clear Lucas and Dustin are worried about Will. Hell about Mike too although Lucas also seems weirdly proud about the guy. A little too happy about Troy getting what was coming to him.

            “I’ve never seen Mike like that before.” It’s said really softly but at least Will is finally saying something.

            “…” Lucas sighs and looks at Dustin clearly asking if whatever he’s about to say should be said or kept under wraps. Dustin looks confused and gives a little shrug, unsure as to what Lucas is asking permission to say. “That’s…” He looks uncomfortable but finally continues, glaring a little at Max due to the elbow she’d just jabbed into his side to prompt him to just spit it out already. “…cause… you weren’t there to see it but…” Dustin makes a little oh face and then nods. Clearly, he’s caught up with Lucas’ brainwave and jumps in to help tell the story.

            “That’s true, Lucas and Mike totally went after each other when you were in the Upside Down. Really an all out brawl, like goblins with intelligences of zero, I mean they were being complete assholes to each other without you to tell them to knock it off…” Will looks up startled, glancing between the two of them in apparent shock. “Mike drew first blood. It was over El and whether she was evil or not.” Will’s eyes widen even further and Max is just as confused. When had these boys _ever_ not worshipped El? She gives Lucas a side glance because he clearly left this bit out of his explanation to her down in the arcade. She lets it go for now and looks at Dustin with a bit of a frown.

            “Drew what?!” She asks having a sinking feeling the way Dustin just said that bit that it’s another _Party Golden Rule_ that’s right there along with _Friends Don’t Lie_ and _Friends Don’t Break Promises_ and _We Stick Together No Matter What_. Dustin gives her a look that clearly states that she should know this all by now and the look is quickly transferred to Lucas as if to say, _you’re awful and failing at teaching her the code, dude_.

            “Mike lashed out first,” Dustin spells it out slowly, punctuating his explanation with hand movements. “Hence, he drew first blood. In our Party, that means it was his responsibility to take the first step to make amends and shake on it.”

            “You two fought?” Will sounds almost heartbroken as he asks the question and Lucas ducks his head in slight shame although follows it with a more detailed explanation.

            “Well, yeah. It was a tense situation! Mike was totally in love with El and couldn’t entertain the idea that she was screwing up the compasses when we were trying to find the Gate to get to you. I lost my temper and so did he. It happens.” Lucas says with a shrug and a slightly sheepish smile that he offers to Will.

            “That and you were gone. Clearly this group needs both of us here to be fucking reasonable and level headed.” Dustin mutters with a decisive head nod.

            “Oh god, we’re doomed if you’re meant to be the reasonable one.” Max can’t help but tease him a bit and gets rewarded with a deadpan look from the boy.

            “I am _so_ unappreciated.” He finally says with a sniff when neither Will nor Lucas come to his defense. They’re even both smiling a bit. Traitors. “Well whatever, so it’s not totally out of the blue for Mike to lose his shit. I still think it’s creepy how attached at the hip he is with Richie already. It’s not normal I’m telling you.”

            And back to square one. Max sighs again and shakes her head. Her curly haired friend is worse than a dog after a bone.

            “Well, I don’t know.” Lucas mutters after a bit. “I think Richie hit the nail on the head during lunch today. Mike totally has a protective streak a mile wide. When he thinks someone needs help, he’s there. I mean you remember how quickly he adopted El.”

            “And me…” Will adds most likely thinking back to when he and Mike met on the first day of Kindergarten.

            “Hell all of us.” Lucas continues. “I mean lets be real. My family was one of the few black families Hawkins, Indiana ever dealt with and he just…saw that I was alone and just came and asked me to join the two of you like it was nothing.” She can see that the argument is a strong one and Dustin doesn’t have much to say in rebuttal. She hasn’t been told about how Dustin joined the group, but she has a feeling that Mike had probably played some sort of pivotal role in bringing him into the group back then as well. It makes her wonder suddenly if she’s the first to join the Party without Mike being involved at all in the process.

            “Point well made, sir.” He grumps in a defeated voice. “Fine, everything is _all_ normal and dandy. I’ll give Richie another chance.” The other three smile at his tone of voice but then Max wrinkles her nose as something else finally clicks in her brain.

            “So you’re telling me if I’d acted like I was in need of help, he’d have been nicer to me?” She demands, punching Lucas’ shoulder.

            “Ow! What are you hitting _me_ for?!”

            “Because you could have given me that tip, Stalker! Instead I made a complete ass of myself by trying to impress him with my skating skills.”

            “You wouldn’t have taken it even if I had told you about it! And what do you mean, impress him? When were you trying to impress him and why?!”

            Dustin is bent in two laughing at them while Will just hides his face with his hands. It’s probably to hide that he too is amused. He’s polite like that. Damn them both. Still the heavy atmosphere is finally broken and for that Max will happily bicker with her Stalker in front of her friends. They’re an odd bunch but she wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world. They’re starting to feel like home to her and that’s a priceless feeling. Especially because she knows how easy it is to lose it.

…

            It’s just a bit before they all have to head their separate ways that Nancy and Jonathan come into the house and bumps into them in the living room.

            “Hey guys,” Nancy greets them and the four of them wave back, Dustin’s brilliant smile showing off all of his teeth as he does so. It makes the older girl’s own smile grow in response. “Are you all okay? We got well… I got the parental run down of what happened at school today.”

            “Yeah we’re fine. How are Mike and Richie?” Will asks.

            “Well,” Nancy blows out her cheeks and makes a little face. “They could be better. Mike’s grounded and his supercomm got taken away from him. I was hoping to catch one of you actually so that you could let El know… I know that they’re used to talking every night and now, that’s really not going to be possible.”

            “Oh fuck.” Dustin groans. “This is a nightmare.” Max glances at him briefly, thinking he’s being overdramatic again but Lucas is making a similarly pained expression.

            “Yeah, we’re doomed.” He seconds. “Bet you El goes to visit him after 5 days of radio silence.”

            “Nah, I say 2. That or Mike’s just gonna skip out of class to visit her.” Dustin banters back while still shaking his head. “They’re going to be im-poss-ible to deal with. Absolutely impossible.”

            Nancy looks like she’s in agreement and yet somewhat amused at their antics.

            “Yeah, well, can you pass the message along at least so that El doesn’t do anything stupid tonight? We owe Hopper that much since he seems to have helped keep Mike from being kicked out of school today.”

            “Of course. We’ll tell her.” Will says in a reassuring tone, ushering them back to his room so that they can apparently all call El together. “Thanks Nancy.” He pauses though just at the foot of his doorstep to ask, “How long will he be grounded for?”

            “A month.” The chorus of groans that come out of Lucas and Dustin then are deafening and even Max has to wrinkle her nose and agree… They’re doomed.

 

Tbc...

 

Thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to read this far, write me comments with feedback and ideas of how the boys could get out of their school predicament, and for all the kudos! It means the world to me! Sending you all much love. 


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El's POV this chapter. It's about time we heard from her, right?

Chapter 11                             

 

            El is pacing the cabin like she had all of yesterday. She hadn’t expected Mike to call yesterday. After all, she’d known that Mike’s twin was meant to arrive yesterday and Mike had said… he’d said it to everyone, that he most likely wouldn’t get in touch with any of them because of “family time”. She knew that…

            Still, she’d hoped that he’d call her anyway to let her know how he was doing and to update her on what his twin was like. He’d seemed so desperately lost the last time she’d seen him.

            So she had paced, checking the supercomm that the boys had given her to make sure it was on and that the volume was high enough so that no matter where she was in the cabin, if Mike called, she would know. No call came though. From any of them.

            She had tried to not go into the Void to check on him. She really had. Irritably, she’d even let Hopper distract her with a surprise Eggo dinner and a very cheesy movie. He’d found it hilarious and she might have too but she hadn’t been able to concentrate on the story line at all. When he’d finally called it a night for the both of them, she’d acted like she was sleepy too. She had then waited until she could hear his snores indicating that he was in a deep sleep. Then she’d snuck out, bandanna in hand and turned the television on and flipped the channel until it was just a white noise screen.

            The Void came easily to her now, especially when it was Mike that she was searching for. It was almost like second nature to reach out for him and there he’d be. He was in his bed but not asleep. He was simply sitting there; back pressed against the headboard, a boy laying on him, face hidden in the fold’s of Mike’s t-shirt.

            It’s the expression on Mike’s face that made her heart beat just a bit faster. He seemed so very lost in his own thoughts and so very tired. She’d lost track of how long she’d stayed in the Void simply watching him, wishing desperately for a way to let him know that she was here and that she would do _anything_ for him. Eventually, it was the real physical strain of staying in the Void that led her to let him go and to go curl up in her bed, fingers scrubbing the blood from where it was rushing down her nose.

            Hopper hadn’t been fooled the next morning because she honestly hadn’t done a good job at cleaning her face. She’d been too drained. The look he’d given her over breakfast had been far more effective and eloquent in some ways than any lecture he could have given her. His resigned sigh even more so. He’d ended up leaving for work with a promise that he’d stop by the Wheelers’ house to check in on her _boyfriend_.

            He wasn’t home yet and so she was still left with no update.

            But the no calling each other via the supercomm had been a rule for last night. And today was today. She didn’t actually need Hopper to provide an update because Mike should be calling her. Yet the clock kept ticking forward and it was maddening to see how much past their usual call time that little hand had moved. Mike was never late when it came to their calls. Not since the 353 days were over. During the 353 days, the call time had fluctuated depending on what was going on in his day. But since reuniting, the call had been a scheduled aspect of both of their routines. It had never been pushed back…

            Something had happened. Something was maybe even happening still! And all she could do was pace nervously around the cabin, chewing absentmindedly on a nail or two. Her headache from last night’s visit to the Void was keeping her from trying again in this moment but if the clock went to read seven-three-oh or seven – thirty, then to hell with it. She knew how to tap into her anger to rebuild enough of her reserves to find him again.

            If only Hopper wasn’t late too. Then she could at least bother him for an update or remind him to go and visit Mike if he’d forgotten. Or maybe bother him enough that he would even allow her to go visit him.

            She made a face at herself for the unrealistic hope. She knew that though he would say yes to the former ( _after all he’d offered it this morning, right?_ ), he would clearly think the latter was her BEING STUPID.

            “…and I’m _not_ stupid…” she mutters to herself under her breath. She sometimes wonders if it would be a nicer world if she was. So many less rules to follow.

            El jumps mid stride when her supercomm crackles into life. She knows immediately it’s not Mike but it’s still _somebody_ and maybe they’ll bring her news of what exactly is going on and why Mike hasn’t called yet.

 

Tbc...

 

Author's note: All of you are absolutely amazing and I wanted to say a great big thank you for all of you who have been following this story and have been providing me support, feedback and ideas! :) As this is a shorter chapter, I'll be posting two updates in one day!!! 


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude - A Mother's Grief. Another chapter from someone else's POV. After this, I promise, we'll go back to focusing on the boys.

Chapter 12

            Mike and Richie’s day off, (read between the lines: an unofficial _out of school suspension_ ), starts off with Karen coming in to wake them up. She finds them sleeping in the same bed, the one backed up against the wall. Mike’s got an arm thrown over his face in a feeble attempt to protect himself from the light of day while Richie is using his brother’s stomach as his pillow, hands tucked up under his chin. The covers are all a mess around them and she’s not even sure if either of them are properly covered against the early spring chill that is still very much present – not just during the night but during the day too.

            What she doesn’t know as she takes all this in, is that Mike just barely fell asleep as the sun started to creep up and that Richie has been asleep on and off with nightmares waking him throughout the night. Right in that very moment that she walks in, they simply look at peace.

            The unexpected sight of them together like this tugs at her heart and she can’t help but pause in the doorway. She still remembers her sister’s voice calling her to meet her at a motel in the middle of nowhere. She hadn’t known then what she would find there. Hadn’t known what her sister would be offering her that day. She wonders if she had known how it would all play out, if she still would have walked the same path and made the same decisions.

            There’s activity down below. Ted and Nancy making breakfast and getting Holly ready while Karen had taken on the responsibility of waking her two teenage boys. But instead of moving towards meeting that goal, she finds herself closing the door behind her quietly and just as carefully approaching closer to the sleeping teenagers. She doesn’t have the heart to wake them up just yet. So instead she finds herself perching on the side of the empty bed, eyes looking over the two.

            In sleep, the tension that always seems present nowadays and pinching Mike’s face in a continual frown is finally gone. He seems more like her little boy, before all the secrecy and the lies came to rest between them like a large concrete wall. Karen doesn’t know when the distance started. She only knows that one day she woke up and both of her eldest seemed to look at her and treat her like a mildly annoying acquaintance at best, and at worst a traitor. An enemy of some sort that they needed to be allied against in order to trick and escape from some sort of torture she hadn’t realized she’d been putting them through.

            She’d understood Nancy’s rebellion, had even expected it to be honest. She’d walked a similar path during her own adolescence and even made some similar choices. She knew all too well the allure of Steve and what he represented and had been somewhat surprised when he ended up being more responsible and more smitten with her daughter than she’d initially credited him. Still, the sneaking out at night to meet him… If only Nancy realized she wasn’t quite as oblivious as Nancy would like to believe she was.

            So yes, she’d been expecting it with Nancy. But Karen hadn’t been ready for Mike to change so quickly. She couldn’t even remember the last time he’d allowed her to even hold him or to provide him with any form of comfort. It had to be around the time Will disappeared… it had to be… but that seems so long ago now. And all of that time seems to be like a weird nightmare that she is still waiting to wake up from. She’s aware that there’s something big that’s being kept from her but she doesn’t even know who she can turn to for answers.

            Mike clearly lost any trust in her during that time and she’s not even sure _why_ or _how._ She’s not even sure it was anything she did… but maybe it’s more what she hadn’t done. All in all, she’s floundering when it comes to him. She’s known it for awhile but had maintained hope that things would eventually turn around. They have to turn around because she loves him.

            And that was the important part in parenting right? The love that you have for your children? The knowledge that you would sacrifice anything and everything for them…

            There’s a part of her that’s scared that maybe he’d sensed that he wasn’t truly hers but… in her mind, the second she’d taken him in her arms, he had been hers. She closes her eyes briefly.

            The memories of that day have filled her mind and this house ever since CPS had called her about Richie. She can’t shake them off and she wishes she wasn’t alone in bearing witness to them but it doesn’t seem fair to burden anyone else with them either.

            So much of what happened fourteen years ago has been hers alone to deal with. It had been a time that had been filled with such initial hope and future dreams and happiness that had been sharply upturned with dark despair and grief.

            She’d been out of town with Ted on a short trip during her second trimester, Nancy safely being watched by her parents when it happened. One day, she’d simply stopped feeling the little punches and kicks to her bladder and lungs. She hadn’t panicked at first, had even felt a little relieved as her little boy was incredibly energetic and it didn’t always feel the most comfortable – the movements sometimes leading to shortness of breath or a rush to find the nearest bathroom. And anyways, it was normal after all for a growing fetus to sleep when the mother was active and about. The mother’s movements causing a rocking soothing motion for the babe in the womb.

            Still, when the lack of movement continued even when she and Ted had settled to watch a movie together in the hotel room, that’s when the anxiety had started to wrap around her. She’d started pressing her hands against her swollen abdomen, asking Ted to talk into her belly in hopes that his deep voice would trigger a reaction. They’d decided to sleep on it and she’d stayed up the entire night, waiting and praying, and fighting the unshakeable and growing feeling that something horribly wrong had just happened.

            But it couldn’t be real because her first pregnancy, although not as glamorous of an experience as people made it out to be, had been smooth and with little to no problems. And Ted, Ted had been so happy and excited about knowing that their second would be a boy. Ted was already talking about all the ways that he and the child would bond over sports and camping outdoors and she just… she was 27 weeks along, just about to enter the third trimester and at every doctor’s appointment that she’d been to, they’d told her that there was a healthy baby boy growing inside of her. She’d passed the dangerous periods of miscarriage. Nothing to worry about anymore they told her. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Only a couple more weeks left to go and then she would meet him. She’d even been green lit by the doctors to go on this trip with Ted…

            The emergency doctor that she met later the next day, that’s a face and a voice that she will never forget. Karen shudders at the memory and can’t help pressing a hand to her mouth.

            She’d lost the baby. They didn’t know why or how but it had happened. She was so far along that she didn’t have a choice in how they would proceed. Her labor was induced and she’d gone through the heartbreaking experience of delivering her already dead child. For nearly 30 hours she’d stayed in the labor and delivery unit in a strange hospital, away from her chosen doctor, away from her family and completely in shock. She hadn’t realized that day that not only had she lost her baby, but she’d lost Ted too. He’d never been the same towards Nancy, towards her… The once loving husband and doting father became a shell of a man. Monotone and faded and dull and absent. Merely someone going through the motions of what it meant to be the breadwinner, father, and husband.

            She’s not sure to this day why they decided to stay where they were and not tell anyone. They simply extended their “vacation” even once she was cleared to leave the hospital and at first, the isolation was a blessing. She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t cry, she could barely comprehend anything that had happened. She simply felt empty and violated. Staying in the hotel room, curled on the bed and having to take care of nothing and no one had been exactly what she’d needed to stay in a cocoon of nothingness.

            Her sister managing to get a hold of her hadn’t been strange at the time. More like an annoyance at having the real world try to rip the numbness that had been wrapping itself tightly around her. It was only when the real fear and desperation in her sister’s voice started to break through the numbness that the irritation went away. She’d managed to come back to the present just enough to jot the address down and call for a cab. Ted had remained unresponsive, glazed eyes looking at the television screen as she slipped out of their hotel room.

            She remembers with great clarity how it had felt to step out of the hotel and back into the outside world that night. The way the early April air had felt cool compared to their stuffy room. The starry sky seemed like a painting, overly perfect with no clouds to obstruct the view. The cab ride had taken over an hour as a car accident had caused delays on the main highway but she’d gotten to this beaten down and awful looking motel anyway. And when she’d knocked on the room that she’d been told to come to _as soon as you can, I need you. Do you understand, I_ need _you,_ there had been a yell for her to come in, _quick, quick, please oh my god, please!_

Karen remembers that the room’s lighting had been dim, the windows had been blocked with towels and it would only strike her as strange after the fact. But in first walking in, she’d just been in a daze… partially out of the emotional coma that her brain had plunged her into because it was the only way to survive the depth of her grief. Partially because all of it was overwhelming with all of the little details that made no sense and the situation that her sister was pulling her into.

            Her sister had been on the lone bed, sweaty and crying, her water having clearly been broken and seeping deep into the blankets and mattress.    

            Karen remembers how they’d initially been excited about being pregnant at the same time but they had never been super close either. And the communication had dwindled the farther along both had gotten. Maggie had never been great at keeping in touch anyway. Always flitting from one area of passion to the next. The last passion that Karen had even been aware for her sister had been of studies of psionic abilities, as if such a thing existed. Pregnancy hadn’t exactly added to any consistency and stability in her sister’s life that Karen knew of.

            It had been such a strong shock of emotion as the violent streak of jealousy and anger at her sister for calling her out to the middle of nowhere, clearly ready to give birth to what would most likely be healthy boys. Boy _s_ because her sister was carrying twins and it was the first time that Karen felt anger. Anger at her sister, anger at God, anger at the hospital staff, at Ted, at herself… she wasn’t meant to be here, without her own baby.      This wasn’t how this part of her life was supposed to be like. She’d done everything _right_ , damn it! She had married a good man, settled down, and chosen to start a family. She hadn’t gone gallivanting – flitting from one project to another, from one man to another, barely keeping in contact with her family. Why was her sister allowed to keep her babies when she hadn’t…? What had she done wrong?

            Before her rage could leave her though – explode in that tiny room or take her far, far away from it all – her sister’s voice had cried out in pain. She was crowning already and the babies were coming. There hadn’t been anything to do but get pulled into action and help with the delivery. There had been no option to call for help. Her sister had made sure of that by cutting the telephone lines after she’d hung up with her.

            She remembers what it felt like, sobbing along with her sister as she held the boys, shaking hands wiping their faces and waiting for them to give out their first cries. Their piercing screams had filled the room and breathed in her a sense of relief and connection so strong that it had nearly killed her to give them up into her sister’s waiting arms. She’d been the one to cut their umbilical chords, to wipe her sister down, and to deal with the aftermath of a natural birth that could so easily have gone so very wrong and so very badly.

            They were small, much smaller than if they’d managed to stay for the full term, but healthy and alive.

            They were a miracle in her eyes.

            Her sister had begged her then, pleaded with her to take one. That they needed to be separated because they were in danger and it’d be so much easier to hide with just one. Her explanation had made no sense to Karen at the time. It still didn’t to this day but she also knows that there’s a lot about her younger sister’s life during that time and following that she knows little about.

            And she’d known it was crazy for her to take one. How could she do that? Take a child from his mother? What would she tell Ted? Hell, what would she tell everyone? Not that anyone but Ted knew that she’d lost her own…

            It was Michael who chose her. She’d been telling her sister that she couldn’t, that she was insane, and that they needed to get her to a doctor, needed to get all of them to a doctor all the while still trying to clean their faces off better when that little hand had grabbed on to her. His puffy little eyes had just opened giving him an all too serious squinty expression on his face and she knew then that she’d never be able to leave him. She’d just frozen at the touch and the look and he’d been hers.

            He never knew that on that night, he’d saved her. Most likely saved Nancy too. She doesn’t know if she would have had the strength to be a mother … a good one… right away if he hadn’t come into her life when he did.

            And since no one had known about her loss, it had been somewhat easy to forge a birth certificate and to make it seem to the rest of the world that he was truly hers. All she’d needed to do was get a taxi ride to a nearby hospital, different then the one she’d been at that had induced her just days before, and share her sister’s delivery story as if it were her own. No one had questioned it, not with the way her own body showed signs of having recently gone through a delivery.

            Ted says he was against the plan but really he’d never had a say in it until it was already too late to go back. After all, what could he do? By the time, he’d come to learn of Mike’s presence, she’d been settled in a small hospital room feeding her baby. He’d walked into her room hours later and she remembers the expression on his face when he took Mike in and the way he’d opened his mouth to ask something. But nothing came out. He’d simply closed his mouth confused frown etched onto his face and waited for the full explanation when she was discharged once again, healthy baby with her.

            He’d waited for that explanation even until after they had picked up Nancy and returned home. Even at hearing the full story, he hadn’t given her much of a reaction. He’d looked at her for so long as if he didn’t recognize her or understand the words coming from her mouth before retiring for the first time to the lazy boy in their living room and not coming to join her in their bedroom that night. It was fine though. Because both of her children slept with her that night and she’d felt so much love for them. She hadn’t been able to sleep herself, too much in awe in watching both of them through the night. The way Nancy was pressed to her side, one chubby toddler hand holding on to Karen’s nightdress while Mike was sleeping against her chest. She hadn’t been able to let either of them go…

            That night, she’d felt how much her life was full then due to those two little beings and how the hope they brought her was dulling the edges of the broken pieces that were still within her…

            Her sister had disappeared after that night. She hadn’t even let Karen know what she would name the son that she kept. Hadn’t really fully finished explaining why keeping one was safer than keeping the two of them. And Karen nor her parents had heard from her at all since then. Maggie had simply vanished.

            Karen had been selfishly grateful for her sister’s disappearance. It meant that it was easier to live the lie. It meant that as every year passed with no news, that she could breath more easily. The fear of her sister appearing and demanding her son back simply dimming until it stopped beating in her chest. And with how busy her life became and as she started fighting to repair her relationship with Ted, she could honestly say that she’d stopped thinking of her lost sister and what had become of her and the boy.

           It wasn’t until CPS had managed to find her and bring all of this to the light that she’d even bothered to think again about Maggie and Mike’s long lost brother. She’s not entirely sure how CPS put the pieces together, especially with Maggie’s last name having been changed at least twice from what she’d been told. Karen isn’t sure if she should curse the CPS workers, hate them, or thank them for their tireless work ethic in this case. They could so easily have given up on Richie and simply placed him in a group home, leaving him on a list with so many other children waiting to be placed within a foster family.

            Still, on one hand, the whole situation is causing the distance between her and Mike to grow exponentially wide but on the other hand, seeing the two of them together right now… She feels horribly guilty at having kept them apart for as long as she has. She worries too about what Richie has seen and experienced in his too short of life. He’s too skinny and too pale and simply too hurt and she has to fight all of her maternal instincts to not simply force him into an embrace. She knows that in his case at least, she isn’t his mom and may never be his mom. But she can be his aunt and his family if he allows her to be.

            And she hopes that Mike can remember that she will always love him as a mother, whether or not he lets her play that role again.

            She takes a deep breath in, forcing the tears down and away. It’s only when she’s sure that her eyes are dry that she reaches out a hand to gently brush the loose curls that are on Mike’s forehead. The gentle touch makes him sigh, his nose wrinkling as the arm that was covering his eyes moves back to his side. He’s a light sleeper though and it’s only another minute or so before he opens his eyes.

            She watches as the tension creeps back into every line and angle of his body, as awareness chases the sleep from his brown eyes, and the frown comes back to rest right in the middle of his furrowed brow.

            “Mom?” The unguarded and uncensored whisper of a question almost brings all the tears back up. He hasn’t called her that in nearly a week. And she’s only too aware of how many times he’s swallowed the title down when dealing with her. It’s been breaking her heart every time he corrects himself.

            “Morning Michael,” She greets with a smile, tone low to match his and in part because she feels choked by so many warring emotions. “Its breakfast time, sweetie.” The tension in his face only increases as she watches confusion crawl into his expression.         It’s clear to her that he’s wondering why she came in to tell him that. It’s been years since she’s woken him up personally. Alarm clocks had replaced her in that way and it had been helpful when Holly had first joined their little family. A wonderful and unplanned surprise but it had done nothing to bring Ted back to her and the family. She’d briefly hoped...She shakes the thought away and focuses back on her son.

            She wishes that she could take everything that’s causing him pain away. She wishes that she didn’t have to punish him but she also knows that if she didn’t with the way he’s been behaving that then she _really_ wouldn’t be acting as the mother that he needs her to be.

            “Okay…” He mutters, clearing his throat and still watching her carefully.

            “Think Richie would react better if you woke him or I did?” That question causes him to blink and he looks strangely vulnerable as he ponders the question.

            “Dunno…”      

            “That’s okay. We can figure it out together…”        

 

Tbc...

 

A/N - I know this chapter is a bit different then the rest. I think this is my way of trying to make sense of the dynamics between Karen and Ted as well as capture Karen's parenting style. Thank you for allowing me the detour. The story will go back to focusing on the boys next update. 


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And back to our regularly scheduled program...

Chapter 13

 

            Richie is tapping his knees nervously with one hand as Aunt Karen proceeds to drive them to his missed eye doctor’s appointment from yesterday. It’s a chaotic sort of rhythm and not entirely soothing. Mikey is leaning against the opposite side of the car, trying to swallow what must be the third or fourth yawn of the day. Richie’s been counting. He’s been counting because he’s trying to keep his focus on anything _but_ their current destination. He hates doctor appointments. They’d happened so very infrequently that he just never knew what too expect beyond one crucial detail. They’d always, _always_ , without fail bring about such an epic _bad day_ for his mom following any of these appointments that he’d just…well, he’d grown to hate them.

            Originally, Mikey had been slated to stay at home due to being grounded. Richie had asked though maybe one too many times ( _or just enough, since she’d finally said yes_ ) for his twin to come with him. It had helped too that Mikey offered, after having been quietly observing their interactions, to keep an eye on Holly while they ran the various errands that they were going to run following the doctor’s appointment. Richie had felt a momentary flash of relief at seeing Aunt Karen cock her head to the side as she looked at both of them before accepting the proposition.

            Holly is nestled in her car seat between the boys, quietly sucking on her thumb. She looks rather content though, eyes bright while tracking the passing scenery. She apparently _loves_ running errands and had done a little dance around all of their legs at learning today’s plans. She was particularly excited at knowing that her two brothers didn’t have to leave her behind to go to school. Weird that, how quickly she seemed to adapt into thinking he was a brother – a long lost one – but a brother all the same. He wonders briefly why they even introduced him as a brother and not the cousin he actually is. He has a feeling that in a near distant future, there’s going to be a weird and probably confusing explanation that is going to have to be given to her. He only hopes that when it happens, he doesn’t have to be a part of it.

            Richie sighs loudly then and Mikey glances back at him, eyebrow arching high in his forehead in silent question as the hand that had been covering another yawn falls back to his lap.

            “…I don’t like doctor appointments…” Richie mumbles at the non-verbalized question.

            “No kidding.” Mikey says slowly, tone a little dry and it makes Richie make a face at him. He’d have given his twin the finger to spice it up but the little one is currently looking at him with those big fucking wide eyes and yeah… he has enough of a filter right now to know better. He’ll get around to teaching her those hand gestures and the meaning behind them on another day. “Hey Hols, why don’t we teach Richie how we pass the time at the doctor’s.” She blinks those too big of eyes and her lips stretch into a wide excited smile around her thumb. Richie thinks that she might have yelped out a yes, but the word is truly mangled and is she _chewing_ on her thumb? He thinks she might be. Mikey seems to have taken the noise as one of assent. “K, you’re gonna need this to come out of your mouth though or else Richie won’t understand you.” He carefully is tugging Holly’s hand away from her mouth and apparently this game is one fucking fantastic one because despite the slight whine that comes from her thumb being popped out forcibly from her mouth, she’s still smiling. She may even be doing a little wiggle dance in her car seat. Which is kinda adorable and distracting.

            Richie shoots Mikey a glare to let his twin know that he knows what the other is up to. Stupid hero.

            “Hols want to ask the first question or?” She shakes her head, her little pig tails whipping around while she points decidedly at Mikey with her saliva glistening hand. “Okay, okay…Hmm… What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

            Richie blinks. “Uh…” Seriously? Are they playing 20 questions? This is the game that they play to pass the time with a _four_ year old? And it works? It seems to be because she is still doing her little funny dance where she sits, watching Richie and waiting for his answer with barely hidden excited anticipation. “…I okay… favorite ice cream flavor you said? You can’t go wrong with chocolate. What about you short stuff?” She giggles at the nickname.

            “Strawberry!” And then she whips around to look expectantly at Mikey.

            “Coffee…” Richie snorts a little at the answer.

            “Careful Mikey-baby, you don’t want to stunt your growth now.”

            “Somehow I don’t think we have to worry about that.” Richie cackles at the darkly mumbled words and the resigned look he sees his twin throw the back of the driver’s seat that was currently limiting his leg space. His brother did look more folded up than usual.

            “Ri-chiiie…” Holly waves a chubby toddler hand in his face.

            “It’s your turn to pick a question.” Mikey adds quickly and helpfully.

            “Oh, uhm… favorite color?” The game continues for the next fifteen minutes and it does exactly what it was supposed to do and more. Richie learns about Mikey and Holly’s favorites and dislikes about a variety of things – not just desserts and colors but also places, musical tastes ( _he makes it his mission in hearing Mikey’s selection to remedy that situation STAT. Mikey seems mildly amused and lets him know that Will has the same mission and that he’s fine, thanks, but he won’t be offended if the two tag team him on the topic)_ , and television shows and even what pet the Wheeler children would like, hint, hint, nudge, nudge ( _this varies wildly and Holly starts to name ALL the animals she knows and makes the corresponding sounds and it’s a cacophonous handful of minutes before the two boys are able to get her to answer another question on an entirely different topic_ ). Richie catches Aunt Karen’s eye in the rearview mirror more than once and it’s clear that she’s listening to all of what’s being shared. There’s a little smile playing on her face. And though she doesn’t comment on the whole pet situation verbally, there’s a slight headshake to show that clearly, she hasn’t been convinced.

            They also talk about fears. Holly is adamant that Roary the dinosaur is scary and Mikey rolls his eyes at that all the while explaining that the toy dinosaur that roared ( _Mikey is precious. Naming a roaring dinosaur, Roary, is so darned cute. He tells his twin as much and pinches his cheek over Holly’s head for further effect)_ has been adopted and lives in another house entirely. That seems to pacify the four year old and Mikey wrinkles his nose before divulging a fear of spiders. Richie’s unsure if he buys it fully but he lets it go for now and simply imitates the motions of a crawling spider up Holly’s legs which leads to screeches, laughter, and kicks. It still doesn’t get him out of answering the question. So Richie decides when it’s his turn to answer the question to stick with clowns and werewolves and regrets it instantly when Holly asks him first, what is a werewolf and two, why is he scared of clowns? Clowns are funny! He only half fakes the shudder and gets away from responding to that by ruffling her hair.

            It is all in all, a successful distraction. His heart still plummets when the car finally pulls into a parking lot.

…

            An hour later finds him blindly looking into a mirror as Aunt Karen presses a different style of frames into his hands and asks for his opinion. He’s about to repeat what he’s been saying for the last 2 frames, that he’s blind as a bat and he’s never understood how _anyone_ who needs glasses can actually give an opinion when testing frames without the lenses being real, when he realizes something. Someone else has his face. He takes the sample frame off his face and puts his own broken glasses back on with relief at the world coming back into focus versus the watercolor blur of the past 15 minutes.

            “Mikey-baby!” He calls out, turning on the spot and ignoring the staff members that make hushed surprise noises in reaction. His twin is in the kid’s section, kneeling on the ground and handing Holly blocks with what used to be a bored expression. Now he just looks a bit frazzled at Richie calling out like that in the middle of the office. Even Aunt Karen looks a bit startled. “Come here! Come here! I have an idea…” The frazzled expression turns into one of slight wariness. Still he gets up and offers Holly a hand before joining Richie and Aunt Karen where they stand.

            “What is it…?” The remainder of his question comes out a bit strangled when Richie lifts the latest frame to slip them onto his face. “What the hell, Richie!?” He doesn’t move his face back fast enough and so the glasses remain crookedly perched on the end of his nose, with only one of the arms wrapped snuggly around an ear.

            “Oh don’t be stingy, this way I can actually _see_ what it’s going to look like on _me_!” Mike makes a disgruntled noise and fixes it so that the glasses are on properly. Aunt Karen makes a soft noise that seems to indicate that this is a good idea and one that will hopefully speed up the process so that they can get the hell out of here. She’s been entirely too complimentary for each set of glasses that she’d foisted on him. It hadn’t been all that helpful. Especially since at least one pair he had serious doubts about…

            “Well?” Mike mutters. “Do you have a better idea now? And give me the next pair… don’t put them on me. I thought you were gonna poke my eye out.”

…

            They end the spree of errands when Mike takes one look at Richie’s face and correctly reads that his twin has reached or even surpassed his limits on this type of family interaction. The guy looks emotionally overwhelmed and just about ready to completely shut down when Aunt Karen asks if he’d like to pick a toy or book to go along with the pile of new clothes she’d gotten him to try on before approving them.

            Mike’s not entirely sure how he manages to convince Aunt Karen that it’s time to wrap it up but he does with a promise that Richie can grab whatever he’d like from his room to keep as his. If he’d like it that is. The way Richie nods vehemently at the offer helps.

            And so they shuffle back to the car, bags of brightly colored (or all out black) clothes in tow along with a new bike. It apparently hadn’t gone unnoticed what an awkward picture they’d made yesterday morning when they’d both tried to get to school on his bike it seems. Mike thinks it’s a good thing that Richie will have his own bike. He just hadn’t liked the vulnerable expression that had crossed Richie’s face when they’d been pulled into that section and he’d been asked to choose the color and the make…

            Richie is now way too quiet which only highlights to Mike at the very least that they’ve been at this for far too long. Even Holly who loves these types of outings doesn’t complain at being strapped back into her car seat. She falls asleep within moments of the engine being turned on. Richie slumps against the window and keeps an eye on the passing scenery so all in all it’s just a very quiet car ride home.

            It remains quiet even when they are back home. Mike finds himself showing Richie how to do the laundry in their home while lunch is quickly being prepared upstairs.

            “Was all of that… normal?” Richie asks when Mike closes the door to the washing machine and turns it on, having double checked that for the brightly colored shirts the water temperature and cycle had been correctly chosen. Mike wonders briefly how often Richie’s going to be asking that particular question.

            “The shopping?” At least this time around, he has a bit more context to pinpoint as to what bit of today’s experience is being asked about. Richie nods, expression still solemn. “I mean… I’m usually not there…” He makes a face as he admits to that piece of information and sees just the smallest flicker of amusement cross Richie’s own face.

            “Knew she dressed you, mama’s boy.” Mike has to roll his eyes and swallow a retort, instead moving to shove his twin with his shoulder in retaliation.

            “Yeah, whatever. I just hate going to the mall. They could stay there for hours and it’s the most boring thing _ever_. I also don’t care what I wear…” To that he shrugs. “Since you clearly do…” The tone is slightly dubious cause he’s not entirely convinced he gets Richie’s sense of fashion. “I would have thought you’d enjoy the outing.” Richie looks away from him then, uninjured hand coming to ruffle his already very ruffled looking hair.

            “I just don’t get why she’d bother, I guess.” Mike finally hears the words being mumbled out slowly and quietly.

            “…to get you clothes?”

            “All of it. The new glasses, the clothes, the bike…” Mike frowns then. He has a feeling that his sheltered life is blinding him from understanding where Richie is going with this. Of why it’s bewildering to Richie to have someone buy him things that seem to Mike to be pretty essential stuff. After all, there’s no way any kid in the Wheeler household is going to be left with broken items, less then pristine clothes, and just…any and all of their physical needs unmet.

            Mike knows that in that sense, he’s been very fortunate. Very privileged. He’d known it even back when El had been staying in their basement. That had been the one surety he could voice with confidence that Aunt Karen would always open her home and make sure that whoever was under her roof would be taken care of.

            “Well… you’re family aren’t you?” He ventures out softly. Large magnified brown eyes turn to look at him, blinking owlishly behind the broken frames. “Of course, she’d want you to have what you need.”

            “…even if I’m a pain in the ass?” Richie asks, biting the inside of his cheek once the words are out there, loose and scary.

            “Yeah… I mean, at worse, you might just have to deal with donating ‘non-essentials’ up if you get in trouble for being a pain in the ass.”

            “Like your three boxes you still have to do?” The reminder makes Mike groan. But it is the perfect example.     

            “Yeah, exactly like _that._ ”

Tbc... 


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

            El is fiddling with the chain of her necklace until her fingers slide to the heart shaped locket and rest there. The charm is warm against her skin, comforting and grounding while at the same time, makes her yearn for Mike all the more.

            If she closes her eyes, she can still see the way his cheeks had been red, the way his eyes had been looking at anywhere but her while he explained rapidly why he was giving her a present despite it being past Christmas and a couple days passed Valentine’s Day. His stuttered explanation had continued about how the gift really was from all of them ( _the entire Party, including Max which had left her feeling just a bit torn at first. She still hadn’t really gotten to know the redhead very well, their interactions limited but she had heard from Mike, more so from Dustin, that Max and Lucas were boyfriend and girlfriend, whether they admitted to the titles or not!_ ) but he’d gotten the idea because he’d remembered how she had looked so interested in the photographs in his living room so very long ago and…

            The sound of his voice despite it being just a memory is so clear that she can’t help but smile. At the time, she’d been a bit overwhelmed by the flood of information and part of her had wanted him to slow down so she could actually follow what he was trying to tell her but also, she’d wanted to reassure him somehow. She’d been curious too about the gift and flustered due to his own clear embarrassment with the situation.

            Still, he’d finally halted his speech with… _“…it’s to remind you no matter what, no matter where you are or where I am or any of the Party members are, you’re never alone.”_ He’d fumbled with the wrapped box then as he’d half pushed it into her own waiting hands.

            She remembers how she’d started opening the carefully wrapped gift slowly but his own anxious energy had been infectious and she’d ended throwing caution to the wind when she’d ripped the pretty paper in one spot. After that, she’d just ripped the rest of it off, revealing a small black box. She’d looked at him curiously and had been rewarded with a blushing Mike urging her to open the box and look inside.

            She’d never seen anything so pretty before. Delicate and shiny with a smooth silver surface that had reflected her awed expression when she’d brought it closer to her face to inspect it. She’d been almost scared to touch it; it had been _that_ beautiful.

            _“It’s a necklace.”_ Mike’s voice comes back to her still as she gets lost in the replay of the memory. _“You wear it around your neck, like this…”_ He’d hesitated in reaching out for the box as if he wasn’t sure how she’d react. But she’d put the gift back in his hands, trusting and all the more curious, waiting for him to show her what to do. And also, feeling a bit choked. Her throat had gotten all tight and her eyes had been prickling her yet strangely she’d never felt happier or more loved. She didn’t understand the mixture of sad yet happy she had experienced then and had made a mental note to talk to Hopper about it later. If she remembered. But somehow, she’d known that she would. That this was a moment that she would never forget. Would never want to forget.

            Mike had been so gentle when he’d removed the locket from the box and placed it around her neck, fastening the back with just a couple of fumblings before he got it correct. The chain and charm had been startlingly cold when they’d first touched her skin and she’d instinctively gone to grasp at the heart. It had warmed up under the touch so quickly. Mike had been watching her, little smile in place before he’d mimed to her how to open it. There had been two small pictures already in place.

            One a miniature version of a photograph from the Winter Ball that Will’s brother, Jonathan, had taken of the entire Party. She had stared amazed at the picture of all of them, eyes resting briefly on how happy she and Mike looked, leaning against one another, with Lucas and Max on their one side and Will and Dustin on their other. Still, her eyes got pulled to the second photograph and she was shocked to see her mother’s face looking back at her.

            She’d kissed him then without thought or warning because everything that she’d started to feel had been too much to keep inside. He’d been so startled and a goofy smile that usually warmed her from the inside out had started to stretch his lips wide when she’d pulled away. It hadn’t stayed long because she’d started crying. He’d been oh so flustered and apologetic until she’d managed to calm herself just enough to let him know that no, she was fine. She was more than fine. She wasn’t even sad… she was… she didn’t have a word for it then and she’d yearned for him to understand and give her the words to explain because he was always so good at doing just that.

            He’d stared at her for the longest time before a crooked little smile had come to rest on his face along with an expression that she still wasn’t quite sure she understood. She does remember though how he’d ended up just leaning their foreheads together and how he’d ended up whispering, _“El, I get it.”_

            She opens her eyes as she lets the memory fade. She’s just in the cabin, alone, and her fingers are closed so tightly on the heart shaped locket that the only sharp end is digging into her flesh almost painfully.

            El can’t believe that she can’t see Mike, can’t even truly talk to him for the next month. 30 days. 720 hours. She’d been at a loss as to what to do with the information last night when Will had given her the update. She’d been angry and upset by the time Hopper had come home and confirmed the news. It hadn’t been the man’s fault, she knew. It still hadn’t stopped her from lashing out at him and leading them to have their first big fight since she’d chosen to come back to Hawkins and leave her sister behind.

            El sighs and forces her fingers to relax. She and Hopper had already apologized to each other but she still felt bad. She knows however, that she’ll most likely feel truly better once Mike’s “grounding” is over.

            She knows that they can get through the days. They’ve done longer and in worst conditions but it still… it still is just awful and its completely drained her of her motivation to complete the lessons in the workbook that Hopper had bought her. She knows she’ll regret it later but right now, she just can’t get herself to move from where she’d settled on the ground to walk back to the couch.

            She simply wants to _wallow_ and _mope_. Two new words that Hopper had told her to look up in their beat up dictionary and she agreed that they fit exactly how she felt right now.

            El sighs and reminds herself that by 5 oclock today, she’ll cross off the day from the calendar that is tacked to the wall. And then it will only be 696 hours to go. Only 29 days. Less than a month.

            And she still has the Void. She’ll always have that.

 

Tbc... I know this chappie is shorter but I have to run today to run an errand. However, I promise another update for either later today or tomorrow. :) Thanks for the support!


	16. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Richie gets closer to the Party and Nancy and Mike plot to get past the communication block that has come from having his supercomm taken away from him...

Chapter 15

 

            Richie feels out of place with the group despite all of them being situated in the local arcade which will most likely come to be his favorite place in all of Hawkins, Indiana. After all, the arcade in Derry had been his favorite hang out. He’d never felt alone there despite typically going there by himself.

            Eds had deemed it far too unsanitary and nothing could get him to even enter the place. Stan the Man had deemed it too loud and the games too violent. Dear Billiam could occasionally be talked into a game or two but after the disappearance of Georgie, nothing could talk the guy out of searching for his lost brother. Following the whole _It_ bit and finding Georgie dead and gone, Billiam just hadn’t been in the mood for the games. Ben, Bev, and Mike had all joined the Losers later and in the midst of fighting that stupid mother fucking clown and Bev moving shortly after, there really hadn’t been a great time to invite them and introduce the three to his safe haven. His home away from home.

            The arcade in Hawkins shows promise though. It’s loud and packed with just the right mix of teenagers and prepubescent kids that makes Richie feel snuggly surrounded. It’s warm but it’s free of smoke and it’s clean- _ish_ with only minimal amounts of soda spills and melted chocolate handprints on some of the controllers. Keith, the main employee, had greeted them all by name before doing a double take on Richie. No, he wasn’t Mikey. He wasn’t even a Wheeler. Yes, he was related to them. And yes, he was living there. Yes, he knew Nancy. And noooo, he would _not_ pimp her out. He could only imagine Mikey’s face and knew that it would just lead him into a not so good moment with his twin who’d warned him already about this Keith.

            Just as Mikey had predicted, the initial confusion around Richie’s identity hadn’t stopped the tall and awkward looking teenager in trying to wheedle a date with Nancy from him after he’d been given the down low as to who Richie even was in relation to the other Wheelers. Red had ended up huffily pulling him away just as he’d been about to open his mouth and tell Keith where to go looking for his date. ( _You know, like reminding him of his right hand. Because like hell, he’d ever put Nancy in a situation where she’d have to deal with this guy who couldn’t even be bothered to ask a girl out directly and instead tried to con a date out from her younger family members. What a sleazeball_!) It was probably for the best that Red had pulled him away before he could say anything. He didn’t want to make an enemy of anyone who worked at the arcade.

            Still though…

            He wishes Mikey was here. He’d tried saying no to coming out when the Party members had randomly shown up at the front door but Mikey had given him a little shove and reminded him that _only_ he was grounded. Richie wasn’t. It’d be good for him to get to know the Party better. Maybe. It sounded logical enough. But he still feels out of place and he’s tired.

            Dustin and Lucas are pressed up around Red, both of them shouting what seems to be a mixture of both advice and cheers. Will is close too but quieter, watching with bated breath and an excited smile as Red’s score on Dig Dug keeps creeping up higher and higher. She’s hell bent on beating her earlier score. Just like Dustin is hell bent on beating her period and reclaiming the number one title. According to Will, this hasn’t happened since she moved here in the Fall but the other boy keeps trying. Lucas looks a little too proud of his girlfriend’s ability to hand all of their asses to them on the arcade game. Maybe games even. Richie had stopped paying attention after a bit.

            He’s right there, pressed alongside the machine, watching but not really seeing. There’s still an unreal quality to all of this. Like he’s still waiting for someone to pinch him awake and for him to realize that all of this was a just a weird ass nightmare. It hasn’t happened yet and a growing part of him knows that it won’t. Still…

            He can’t believe that he’s in an arcade.

            It’s been what… two…three weeks or something fucked like that since he’d last seen his mother alive. And now he’s here with people he barely knows, people that are welcoming but don’t really know him from Adam and living with a new family. He’s not quite sure how to make sense of all the changes. Some of them are so new and so different to everything he’s ever known that he just doesn’t even know how to start processing the changes. He doesn’t even know how he actually feels about them. It’s all a great muddle in his head.

            But he’s in an arcade and he should feel like he’s back in his element. But all he feels is alone, a fish out of water, and underlying it all a suffocating guilt that’s been growing and growing every day since arriving in Hawkins. Every gesture of kindness, of care that he’s received, especially from Holly, Aunt Karen and Mikey, makes it harder for him to breathe. It’s overwhelming.

            His actual nightmares are starting to morph. They still start out the same. The tiles in the bathroom, the way his mother looks and feels… but then it all changes. Even though he’s still ripped away from her and dragged away, she does get up. She’s dead but she’s moving. The movements stilted and stiff but clear as she drags herself from the prone laying position to get on her hands and knees, head jerking off the ground just in time for them to be able to look at each other straight in the eyes. It’s her expression that haunts him. It’s one that he remembers from her _very bad_ days. When she’s angry and screaming and nothing that happens can be good. He doesn’t know what she’s about to yell at him in the dream because Mikey has been waking him up just as he watches his mother’s corpse lips open. He’s weirdly grateful and irritated by Mikey’s impeccable timing.

            He wants to know. He also doesn’t. He knows it can’t be anything good with the way he always, _always_ wakes up with his heart in his throat and about two seconds from up chucking the wonderful dinner that he’d inhaled just hours before. And part of him wonders if the words he’ll hear will just highlight what an awful being he is. For easing into this new life, for being in wonder about what could have been...

            A wild cheer erupts and Richie startles out from his slouched position. He watches as Dustin, so enthused at whatever score Red managed to get that he is literally crushing the life out of his hat all the while waving both arms above his head. Lucas is pulling Red into his arms in a congratulatory hug and she looks so damned pleased with herself. Will is patting her shoulder before he looks over his own to make sure that Richie is still there. Still participating. He offers the guy a smile and makes a show of peering at the screen and making a whoop noise that he hopes is celebratory _enough_ for the occasion.

            “All right Richie, time to put your money where your mouth is…” Red exclaims when she finally wiggles out of Lucas’ loose hold. “I wanna see those mad skills you’ve been claiming to have.”

            His mind goes utterly blank and leaves him speechless. The fucking traitor. It doesn’t give him an out, doesn’t even give him any wiggle room to balk and try and sit this one out. Resistance is futile if his best and only weapon decides to just break on him. So he takes the shoulder slap and simply gets into position, the quarters that Aunt Karen had given him for the occasion heavy in his hand. Dig Dug isn’t his favorite by far but he’ll just deal.

            He only hopes that as the nightmares continue to change on him that the Losers don’t start to appear right alongside his mother, all of their faces screaming his betrayal as he strengthens the tentative friendships he’s creating here. He knows that he should call them, write to them at the very least, so that they know he’s alive and well. But as every new day comes and passes and the guilt just continues to grow, Richie finds it harder and harder to find the energy to reach out to them. They’re probably better off without him anyway. And it’s not like they’ve bothered to seek him out either…

            The screen of the arcade game is bright and his attention is forcibly pulled into playing and keeping himself alive. The cheers and the advice that had surrounded Red are now surrounding him - warm, alive, and vibrant. And fuck. He’d be lying if it didn’t feel good. Just like Holly’s hugs. Just like Aunt Karen’s care. Just like Mikey’s attention. It all felt good.

            And he was a miserable human being for liking it all and for a small but growing part of him wanting to erase all his earlier years and swap it out for this.

            Just this.

…

            “Hey,” Nancy starts, hand gripping the side of his door tightly. She looks unsure as to how he’s going to react. Mike simply blinks at her and shuts his notebook. He’d been halfheartedly jotting down ideas for the promised D&D campaign after finally admitting that today was _not_ going to be the day where he’d be able to figure out where his supercomm had been hidden from him. He’d also been trying to jot down some possible character ideas for Richie. If his twin ever decided that D&D would be worth trying or not. Whenever the topic had been brought up so far, Richie kept calling a _nerd alert_ and getting his hand slapped in a high five by Max in full and amused agreement. So much for having spent time in creating a Zoomer character just for her.

            The adult Wheelers had decided to have a very boring and normal _weekend in_ with Ted napping in front of the television and Karen on the phone talking to a friend wine glass in hand since Hols was at a friend’s house for a play date and Richie was down at the arcade. It seemed like she was on a mission of updating this friend with every detail of the latest book that they’d decided to read together. He’d overheard only a bit of this conversation but had decided it was never something he wanted to know about _ever_ and that it would be safer to hide back in his room. Despite the Wheelers being “occupied”, he knew all too well how quickly Karen could tune in to “suspicious” noises and he didn’t care to test what would happen if she caught him snooping around in hopes of finding his supercomm. He hadn’t even known Nancy was home.

            “Hey.” He sits up. “What’s up?” She seems to take that as an indication that she’s welcome and after some hesitance, she makes her way over closer to him. Her eyes are wide as she takes all of it in as if seeing it for the first time. He scans his own room but the changes that have been made to his space have already become normal to him. He’s not entirely sure what she finds so entrancing.

            “I should be asking you that…” She answers, wrinkling her noise at having to side step a wet towel that was unceremoniously dropped on the ground by Richie hours earlier. He’s crap at taking care of stuff like that and Mike isn’t the type to nag. At least, not about wet towels. He knows that eventually, probably a little bit before lunch, he’ll just pick it up and throw it in the dryer before it starts to smell moldy. He has a feeling that it’ll just be another change to his routine that he’ll adapt to without really noticing.

            “Nothing much since you know… house arrest.” His tone is only mildly snarky. Still, he sees how she arches an eyebrow at him. Clearly, she’s currently finding him to be difficult. But he honestly has no idea what she actually wants from him.

            “How are you holding up?” She tries again, sitting on the edge of his bed.

            “Peachy. How are you and Jonathan doing?” He gets swatted for his efforts at keeping the conversation going and Mike slaps her hand away with his notebook. “What the hell? You can ask nosey questions but I can’t?!” That gets him an eye roll and he has to smile just a bit at her indignant retort.

            “Since when is asking how are you considered nosey?”

            “Seriously Nance, when’s the last time you asked me that?” That stops her short and her shoulders start to droop making him feel like a jerk. He isn’t trying to be. He just doesn’t know why she’s suddenly here, in his room, asking him stupid questions when it’s clear that he’s not great. He’s fine. He’s safe. He’s just not fucking happy. Sue him. He’d like to meet someone and have him go through everything he’s been through and see if he was happy.

            “We promised…” She starts.

            “To keep each other in the loop.” He finishes. He remembers.

            “We haven’t really been doing a great job of that.” Nancy comments quietly, eyes looking at her hands. Mike shrugs non-committedly because what the hell can you say to that? “Why do you think that is?” It’s the tone of her voice that makes him sigh suddenly feeling guilty like all of it is his fault on top of already feeling like a jerk. Who knows, maybe it is. He hadn’t exactly been acting in any way like a good brother should for who knows how long. He still has to replenish her piggy bank fund of all the quarters he’d _borrowed_ from her all those months ago. He’d been about to but had ended up saving the money to buy El a gift instead.

            “I dunno…” He sighs, looking away from her and looking outside his window instead. “…I didn’t know what to say and you had Steve…now you have Jonathan.” He shrugs again. He knows it’s not a great answer but it’s the only one he’s got. Nancy had seemed okay enough, still doing her own thing, consequences be damned. She’d had a whole mission to get Barb justice that she’d planned out with Jonathan all on her own while he’d been entirely focused on Will. He’d had no idea that she’d even been hanging out with his best friend’s brother plotting how to bring Hawkin’s lab down. They might live together but at times, that seemed like it was the only shared commonality between them anymore despite the fact that their social circles were suddenly and seemingly starting to crash, collide, and blend all at once. Jonathan and her, Steve hanging out with Dustin and giving him dating and hair advice. It was all just… fucking weird.

            There’s a stretch of silence that follows his response and he gets lost in watching the scenery outside his window. It’s better to focus on those details than to think about anything at all.

            Her hand taps his foot and forces him to turn his attention back to her.

            “I’ve been thinking…” There’s enough of a hesitation in the way the words come out that he has to wonder where she’s going with this now. If this had been a weird attempt at bonding, it’s having the effect of making him feel even more like crap then even before. He hadn’t quite thought that was possible. “I know what losing the supercomm means for you and… _El._ ” The name is whispered and he watches as she scans the room again as if unsure about the security aspect. She’s right to be wary.

            He honestly doesn’t remember when Hopper was last here to do a perimeter sweep. He just remembers the first time one had been done, just weeks after the first fight with the Demogorgon and El having disappeared. He still remembers the way he’d felt physically ill at having the Chief unscrew a lamp and show him where the hidden spyware was. It had felt even worse when the man had simply screwed the lamp back on, not removing the device. Something about letting them think that _they_ had the upper hand and at least now they knew of the places where the Wheeler home was “bugged” and where it wasn’t. It’s not like he’d felt particularly safe after seeing how many strangers in suits had swarmed his house following El’s initial disappearance but any illusion of safety and privacy within his own home had been wiped clean after that particular moment with Hopper.

            “Okay.” He’s still not sure where this is going and he hopes to God that this isn’t a weird way of trying to comfort him.          

            “And I wanted to let you know that I was able to talk to Will and the others to share the reasons behind you not being able to call. So you don’t have to worry about that…”

            “Oh.” He blinks at that and frowns just a little. Will had let him know in a hushed whisper that he’d been in contact with El and had updated her all about his grounding when he’d come by earlier today with the rest of the gang to supposedly check up on both Richie and himself, give both of them their missed homework from Friday, and to see if they could all hang out. All of them had played their parts well; acting just confused and innocent enough that Aunt Karen had bought their lies of having no sweet clue that Mike was grounded following the fist fight from Thursday. Its what had allowed Mike in even being able to see his friends and say hello to them rather than having them all be turned away at the door. That and most likely the fact that she wanted Richie to make friends. Mike had felt such relief at hearing Will’s update on El that he hadn’t stopped to think about how in the world his friend had even known about the punishment in the first place. “Thanks. But why didn’t you tell me that like yesterday?”

            “You’ve been holed up in here with Richie every waking moment, Mike. I honestly thought the first chance I’d get to talk to you alone was when he was in the shower but I apparently missed that this morning so…” She huffs a bit at that before continuing on. “Anyway, that’s not actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to offer up another method of communication.”

            “What?! How?”

            “Write to her. I can pass the letters to Hopper directly or to Ms. Byers who you know sees Hopper pretty regularly too.” He blinks at her and mulls the idea in his head. There’s a part of him that wants to jump on the idea. There’s another part of him that’s balking at the mere thought that Hopper would have access to his letters. And he knows that the man will read them.

            It’s as if she’s reading his concerns because Nancy gives him a knowing look before saying evenly. “Write them in code if you’re worried about them being intercepted.” That suggestion is good although if it’s true code, he’s going to have to find some way to provide El with a way to break the code and it just brings him back to the original quandary. He blows his cheeks out in frustration that he can’t figure out a way to keep prying eyes from seeing these but maybe, maybe he just needs to let go a little. It’d be worth being able to talk to her again in _any_ way.

            “…I could… and you, you don’t mind? Honest?” She shakes her head.

            “I wouldn’t have offered if I did.”

            “Thanks Nancy, I mean it.”

…

            Richie comes home hours later still feeling torn about it all and exhausted because of it. He’s the clear winner on Street Fighter but Red’s got him beat on Dig Dug. He did however, steal second place from Dustin on the favorite game much to the curly haired boy’s chagrin. The Party members had all congratulated him for his score and they’d all taken turns playing the various games until it was time for all of them to come home. That had been marked by Jonathan, Will’s older brother, suddenly approaching them.

            Richie had found the guy to be a mix of aloofness yet just as gentle seeming as his younger brother. He’d watched as Jonathan inquired how their gaming had been going, hand ruffling Will’s hair. The older teen had listened to them one by one before reminding them of the hour and asking who here needed rides home. All of them had declined and they’d ended up taking off on their bikes right after Will and Jonathan left. Richie was grateful that he could follow Lucas back home, despite having to make the detour to drop Red off first. He wasn’t confident in his ability to get back home by himself just yet. Maybe another couple of days or weeks biking around would help.

            Richie’s pockets feel lighter in part because they’re that much more empty than before he’d gone to the arcade. Still, he had managed to keep a hold of a quarter or two and he dutifully empties out his pockets to give them back to Aunt Karen. She blinks at that before cheerfully telling him to wash his hands, dinner is just about ready and then she turns away, not taking the quarters back. He watches her back in confusion for a moment before simply shrugging it off and stuffing them back into his pocket. He’ll save them for the next trip to the Arcade; confident now that there will be another one. He’s about to leave to find Mikey ( _like hell he’s going to wash his hands. They’re not_ that _dirty. Christ!)_ when Aunt Karen’s voice stops him.

            “Did you have fun at the arcade?”

            “Uh, yeah… It was okay. Thanks again, for letting me go.”

            “I’m glad. Mike’s friends are sweet aren’t they…” It’s more of a statement than a question and so Richie stays quiet. She finishes tossing the salad and taste tests a spinach leaf, frowning a little before adding another pinch of salt to the bowl. “They’ve all known each other for years although the girl is new.” Richie nods because he knows all of this already but he doesn’t want to be rude. They end up making small talk, a couple of his more tame jokes making her laugh, and he finds himself helping bring some of the food to the table, mainly the sliced bread and salad bowl.

            It all seems so… damned unnatural and disgustingly normal all at the same time.

            It’s a juxtaposition.

            It’s a relief when Mikey gets called down and joins them. It’s easier to breath around him for some reason that he can’t think too much on at the moment. They spend the rest of the weekend joined at the hips and that is actually completely and utterly fine by him.

 

tbc... 


	17. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins are back at school and getting into a routine...which is all fine and good but there's new people trying to nose into their business.

Chapter 16

           

            Mike and Richie resume school on Monday. And things are fine enough. Troy and James are nowhere to be seen and that’s good. It allows for the twins to simply go to class and keep their heads down as Mike completes his daily double detentions ( _one during lunch and one during A/V club meetings)_ and Richie continues to learn about the Party members, the school, and the town itself.

            Of course, there are a lot of rumors going around about the twins. Mike and Richie are promptly updated about how Troy’s nose is broken and all the wild tales of how it was broken that are being circulated around the school. Some of them are pretty close to the truth while some are so out there that it borders on insanity. It gets Richie laughing a couple of times and that’s okay, he guesses.

            All in all though, as Monday finishes and the rest of the week continues, it all starts to have a certain rhythm and flow. Not just at school but even when they’re both at home. Just like Mike had predicted over the weekend, he adapts to Richie’s little eccentricities ( _the whole towel dropping thing being just one of many, right along with the “Voices”, and the endless supplies of nicknames that get thrown out there for everyone that Richie comes across_ ) and he’s sure his twin can say the same for him. Richie doesn’t comment on Mike’s sudden need to have at least 15 to 20 minutes of quiet time when he furiously writes a note that he then hands off to Nancy at the end of each day. He notices it but he hasn’t said anything yet and for that Mike is grateful.

            The only thing that becomes hard because it _doesn’t_ change is the lack of sleep. Richie continues to have nightmares throughout the nights and Mike, when he’s not struggling to fall asleep while looking at shadows, is finding it now hard to even stay asleep for consecutive hours at a time. If insomnia and his own fear of nightmares aren’t keeping him up, Richie’s nightmares are. That and his tendency to become the human equivalent of an octopus following said nightmares.

            Mike has never realized how _uncomfortable_ it can be to share a bed with someone. The romance movies that Nancy had suckered him into watching once or twice totally lie about how easy and comfortable and romantic it supposedly is. ( _Granted, it’s probably more than a little normal and a fucking relief that sharing a bed with his_ brother _isn’t romantic in the slightest.)_ The reality of sharing a bed is more like a fight for covers, bony and flailing limbs sometimes hitting more vulnerable and exposed body parts, and way, _way_ too much body heat. Richie is a friggin’ furnace and he has a feeling that he isn’t all that different in that respect. Not that Richie’s said much of anything on that topic beyond teasingly commenting once that he’s glad Mike’s not buff. It makes his stomach a much more comfortable pillow ( _His twin can be such an ass)_.

            In any case, despite Richie getting maybe a handful of hours ( _maybe only minutes)_ more sleep than Mike is currently getting, he knows its’ not enough for either of them. He knows because Richie’s pale features are starting to show shadows under his eyes but he’s lucky in that his glasses hide it somewhat. Mike has nothing to hide the bags that are growing under his eyes and he’s already noticed Aunt Karen giving them increasingly concerned looks every morning and during family meal times. His fading shiner probably isn’t helping the look but he hasn’t been looking in the mirror so he actually has no idea what he looks like.

            He’s also been caught off guard more than a couple of times this week by Mr. Clarke asking him a question he _knows_ he should know the answer to and his mind just stays blank. Uncomprehending sometimes of what was just asked even. He’s starting to zone out in classes whether he finds the material interesting or not and finds that it’s taking him double the time to complete his homework. He doesn’t bother asking to copy from his friends though. He remembers all to well what happened the last time he’d copied from Dustin’s paper.

            Detentions in a way become a reprieve. He doesn’t have to act awake and put together. Mr. Vincent doesn’t care what Mike does as long as he’s quiet and so, if he can, he works on his homework then forcing his tired mind to muddle through each problem and question. If he’s simply too tired, he rests his head on his backpack and tries to take short naps. It’s not ideal but it helps.

            Richie’s own sleep deprivation is coming out in slightly different ways. If he’s not completely tuned out from what’s happening around him, he’s entirely keyed up with some kind of energy that makes it impossible for anyone to shut him up. So far, ( _and as far as Mike’s concerned, its a fucking miracle)_ , he’s managed not to piss any one off too much and hasn’t yet gotten a detention. He’s been given extra homework in one class though that he’d bitched about for so long and so loudly and hadn’t stopped until Mike had shoved a cookie in his mouth. That had been…what… yesterday?

            Mike is getting ready to settle into his fifth lunch period detention and is fully planning on using the time to catnap when the door opens and Mr. Vincent is beckoned to leave his desk. The man engages in a brief conversation with a woman by the door. The way the woman holds the door only slightly open means Mike can’t really see who it is. It piques his curiosity for a second but the thought of closing his eyes is more enticing and so he looks away, going back to trying to mold his backpack into some semblance of a … headrest. It’s way too hard and encumbered by his many textbooks to be considered an actual pillow.

            He lays his head down for what feels like a minute.

            “Michael?” Mr. Vincent says his name and Mike swallows the groan that threatens to escape him. Instead he just carefully sits up and gives the teacher his attention. “There’s been a slight change of plans. If you could follow Ms. Sandy Sloan, she’d like to meet with you for part of your detention.” Ms. Who? What now? His eyes move to take in the figure still by the door but it clarifies nothing. He gets up though and grabs his things, frown in place and wondering what this person wants from him.

…

            Mike’s not sure what to expect from the school counselor and his back is rigid with tension as he goes to sit where he’s being motioned to do so. He takes the woman’s expression and body language in. She’s vaguely familiar in that she’s been present at certain school functions since Will’s disappearance over a year ago but he’s never had to interact with her in any direct way. She seems friendly enough but no one’s told him why his detention on this very bright Friday has suddenly been changed to a visit with her.

            Its not really made any clearer as she starts to talk to him about confidentiality and the limits of confidentiality especially since he’s still a minor and does he have any questions? He does but not about that so he shakes his head mutely.

            “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?” He’s not able to keep the _duh_ expression off his face and she laughs a little at seeing it. It doesn’t seem like she’s laughing at _him_ per se, but more like she recognizes the absurdity of her own question. “Stupid question, I’m sure.” She gives a little shake of the head and then starts to explain. “Principal Nolan and Mr. Clarke let me know what happened last week.” Mike gives a heavy sigh at that and though one of her eyebrows rises in silent question, she continues with her own explanation. “Mike, they’re worried about you. You’re a bright student and you’ve had a lot happen to you…” He cuts her off then.

            “Nothing’s happened to _me._ ” He corrects. Because it’s true. Nothing ever really happened to _him._ Not like El. Not like Will. Not like Richie. She gauges him carefully while he speaks and he can’t read the expression that comes crawling onto her face then.

            “How would you describe having your friend go missing, being declared dead, and then found… and then finding out that you were separated from your identical twin in less than two years?” She challenges gently. He decides then that her expression is _neutral_ despite her clearly having an opinion on his life and that he doesn’t like her at all. So he sits back in the chair, trying to force some space between the two of them despite the fact that there’s already a big ass wooden desk between them. “Things have happened. Whether to you or around you is a case of semantics. Either way, it’s had an impact on you. And you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. ” He doesn’t. “But, I did want to let you know that I’m here if you do want to.”

            He hopes that the crossing of his arms across his chest isn’t too subtle of a, yeah, no, nice try but never going to happen. Still she waits for what seems like an undeterminable stretch of time in silence as if that would goad him into speaking. She’s in for a disappointment. Mike has never had anything less to say than in this moment. She finally gives a small understanding smile and holds out her hands. “That’s fine Mike.” She pauses again before adding, “I do want to let you know that after speaking to your mother…”

            “She’s not,” He starts with the correction. He can’t help himself and bites the inside of his cheek hard. “… she’s not my mother. Biologically speaking, she’s my aunt.” And he hates that it comes out of him. Hates how much it reveals because he’s aware that she’s taken that in and is making more mental notes and analyzing him for it. It shows in the way that she slowly nods as if it to pacify him.

            “Okay, your aunt…I talked to her and we agreed that meeting with Richie may be helpful as well. I wouldn’t share anything with him that you talked to me about or with you about what he talks to me about.” She tacks on the last bit as if this news will be what makes him open up to her. It’s not going to. He actually cares less about her talking to Richie about him and vice a versa. He cares more about _what_ she wants _him_ to talk to her about and that it probably would all find its way back to one Karen and Ted Wheeler. And who knows who else is listening. No thank you. Fuck that shit.

            “Good luck with that.” He finally manages. “I’m sure you’ll find conversations with Richie to be highly stimulating. Can I go now?”

            “Of course. I would never force you to come visit me.” She offers him a little smile and stands up. “I’ll walk you back to Mr. Vincent’s room.”

…

            Richie is also startled by the invitation to the school counselor’s office. Mikey hadn’t been able to see him before he got snagged from the cafeteria by the woman so there’s no heads up and no warning. She seems nice enough. The whole thing is bizarre though and he’s not entirely sure he understands what she does or the purpose of the meeting. He’s not sure Derry Middle School had a school counselor and the only time he’d met with a… he thinks it was a psychiatrist and not a counselor, had been at the hospital. The guy hadn’t exactly seemed like the warm and fuzzy type. He’d mainly asked Richie why he’d tried to kill himself and did he still want to and had talked a lot about other ways to deal with grief. He’d also tried to give him a bunch of pills. Richie had dutifully taken them during the hospital stay in part because he hadn’t really had a choice then.

            He frowns a bit lost in the thought that he has no idea whatever happened to those and maybe the CPS worker had simply forgotten to pack them. That’s really the last time he’d seen the pill bottle. Huh… weird. Maybe it’s something he should ask Aunt Karen about. They’d been helpful with sleep at the very least and he could use some help in that department right about now. He knows enough that his own nightmares are keeping Mikey up and that’s not fair to the guy. He’d also like a little break from them himself if he’s being honest.

            This woman, she introduces herself as Sandy, lets him know that she’s talked to Aunt Karen and Mikey and also the Principal and many of his teachers. She wants this space to be one where he feels safe and can come to whenever he needs anything. Or if he just wants to talk. She also shares that a lot of people are worried about how he’s adjusting and that maybe together they can work on that. She asks how he feels about all that she’s told him and he can honestly say that he’s not entirely sure.

            It seems weird to have so much attention when he’s used to the adults in his life ignoring him or shooing him away. But he agrees that it could be helpful to meet with her from time to time. Although he isn’t sure what he would say to her. She doesn’t seem insulted by that and actually just takes his honesty with a smile and says it’s an open space. He can use it however he wants.

            That seems like a dangerous offer but that’s because he actually knows himself and how he is without a filter. She doesn’t. She doesn’t know what she’s setting herself up to endure. She might regret it but that’s not really his problem, is it?

            Despite her saying that meetings with her are an open space for him to share whatever he feels like sharing, the rest of the meeting is actually a bit more structured. She asks him questions about the Wheelers, his sleeping and eating habits, ( _he doesn’t miss how she frowns just a little at the way he avoids answering directly about the sleeping bit. Still, he manages to get a laugh from her as he goes into a wildly colorful and detailed answer about meals at the Wheelers and how friggin’ extravagant and abundant the food is there._ ), and how school is going for him. The last one is answered with a shrug.

            After all, it’s only been like his sixth actual day at the school. It’s better than his first day but it is just school. And just like it had been for him in Derry, Maine, it’s a mixture of sometimes interesting, sometimes boring as all get out, and having a hard time sitting still. He’s doing well on the assignments though much to some of his teacher’s confusion. Just because he talks and has trouble sitting still during their lectures doesn’t mean that he isn’t listening. What’s so hard to get about that?

            Still, he’s glad Mikey is in all of his classes. And yeah, they get along really great. No problems there. She seems just a mite startled by that nugget of information which makes Richie wonder briefly how and when this woman met Mikey. Did he say something to her about him?

            When the bell rings, they both startle and he turns her offer down to walk him to his class. He thinks that’s a good thing when he sees Mikey-baby’s grumpy and darkening expression at learning that he’s already met with her. Apparently, his twin hasn’t been won over by the woman at all and is downright suspicious of her. He also seems vaguely disappointed to hear that Richie behaved during the meeting. Go figure. They’re limited in what they can tell each other as the teacher starts with today’s lecture and they have to be quiet. Still, it’s reassuring from the little that is shared to learn that Mikey didn’t talk smack about him. It seems more like Mikey just hates the idea of having to meet with a counselor period.

            It’s after they’re done with the school day that they can really have more of a conversation about it. The rest of the Party seem to be more on Mikey’s side of thinking that these sudden meetings are suspicious. Well, Will doesn’t. He shares that he met with Ms. Sandy once or twice before his care got shifted to some Dr. Owen.

            “…yeah…” Dustin points out with a somber expression darkening his usual cheerful face. “And look how well that turned out.” Richie is left in the dark as to how it actually turned out because Lucas quickly changes the topic.

            When they’re biking away from the school minutes later, Richie doesn’t miss how Dustin exchanges a terse _Smooth Lucas, that wasn’t suspicious at all_ … He tries to catch Mikey’s eye to ask a silent _what the fuck is that all about_ but his twin is actually speeding up, calling out to him about how they can’t be late. He really can’t have another day added to his grounding sentence thank you very much.

            So all Richie can do is start pedaling faster and harder to catch up and file away the little thought that Mikey’s friends are all fucking weird. But that’s okay.

            The Losers were all weird too.

 

Tbc... 

 

A/N - First off, thank you all to everyone for the support, love, and comments! It's incredible to get so much support for this brain child of mine. Also, some of you may have noticed that I updated how many chapters total the story will be. Buuuut that's just the chapter count for Part I of Long Lost Child. This story, if I'm able to get it all down on paper, is currently set up to be a total of three Parts. :) I will continue to try and update the story as regularly as I can. Love you all!


	18. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El's continued perspective and experience of Mike's grounding now that she's getting handwritten notes from him.

Chapter 17

 

            El’s favorite part of the day becomes when Hopper comes home. It had always been a brighter moment for her because she liked the gruff man and she was desperate for _real_ company after hours of simply having the television or books to keep her entertained. But now it was made even better because Hopper typically comes home with a folded up note that he hands her following their usual hug. She stops trying to dodge from his hair ruffling hand because unfolding the note is so much more pressing than side stepping the touch that she actually finds to be comforting. He only teases her briefly now and sometimes not even about the notes and what Mike could possibly be writing her about simply because she tends to not even be listening to him by that point. And it is _that_ obvious.

            _Ah young love_ … He’d shake his head and try and muster some cynicism. But the truth is that he’s glad _something_ is making her be patient about the whole situation. When Nancy had stopped by with the first note last Saturday, he’d been ready to kiss the girl in sheer gratitude. Dealing with a moody teenager was already bad enough. One that had powers that could flatten him and their shared living space was entirely a different matter altogether. And at that time, they’d barely made it through two and half days of radio silence. He wasn’t sure that they could survive an entire month and had been already mulling half-baked plans of contacting Karen to see if there was any way the punishment could be changed. Thankfully, the notes were helping and the previously morose, stormy atmosphere in the cabin had changed into one of sad hopefulness, smiles and blushes, and a renewed interest in learning how to read and write. All a win by his books.

            El’s face brightens as she flattens the lined paper gently and starts to scan the handwritten note. Mike’s handwriting is careful and she can sense the care in every word he picks. If there’s ever a word that he’s unsure she knows, he always adds an explanation that never feels condescending, merely helpful. She walks slowly to the couch, not having to look up because her feet have memorized every inch of this space and she knows the way there by heart. The message is simple yet colorful, Mike’s storytelling ways coming out with every written line. It’s also sweet and provides her with a much needed glimpse into what’s going on for him. It’s not as good as hearing his voice over the supercomm but for now, she’ll take it.

            The first note she’d received had been an apology. An apology for getting in trouble and getting the supercomm taken away and for worrying her. He’d also asked her how she was and that she hoped she’d enjoy getting a pen pal. He’d included what a pen pal was and the origin behind the phrase which she had enjoyed learning about. She didn’t have to respond, but he’d really like it if she did. The note had ended with an ‘I miss you.’ And his signed name right underneath. She’d read it over and over again, each time trying to imagine his voice as if he were speaking the letter directly to her. It had caused her heart to flutter whenever she got to the last part and she’d sighed, torn between hugging the letter to her chest and wanting to visit him in the Void right then and there. Because as nice as the letter had been, it hadn’t really provided her with an update as to how he was.

            In the end, she’d done both. She’d gone to visit him and had taken in the way he was sitting on his bed, clearly speaking to someone that he was facing but that she couldn’t see. She had only wanted to see Mike and so it made sense that only he was in the Void. His hair had been ruffled and he had a large bruise painting one cheek and scrapes on a partially bandaged hand but there was a small smile playing on his lips. She’d stayed and watched him until he’d moved up and out of his room, disappearing from the Void as if he’d turned to dust. She’d needed a bit to recover but when she had, she’d asked for some help from Hopper and the dictionary in order to take up the task and respond to him.

            El had only caught Mike’s reaction to reading her letters once so far. But she had loved that moment and cherished it, validated that her letters were having the same impact on him as his had on her even if her sentences and penmanship were stilted and childlike in comparison. She’d received a letter each day and she’d written one back each day too.

            Today’s note reveals a new story about life with Richie that makes her grin. She can’t wait to meet Mike’s brother and feels like she knows him already just due to the little details being provided to her here and there. She laughs at the list of nicknames that Richie is constantly using and updating for all the Party members. So far, he’s called Mike: Mikey-baby, Mikey, mama’s boy, and knight in shining armor… but Mikey and Mikey-baby seems by far to be his twin’s favorite. Mike had asked his twin what was up with the butchering of his name and was told in a very matter of fact tone that their names needed to rhyme. And by changing it to Mikey, now it did rhyme but not just with Richie but with Nancy and Holly too. Mike had let El know in a previous note that since then, when Richie got on his nerves, he’d call him Rich in retaliation. She had a feeling there may be a double entendre there but she hadn’t quite grasped it even with Mike’s explanation.

            She did learn that Richie had finally settled on Dusty for Dustin ( _to capture his love for dusty old books_ ), Red for Max ( _clearly less creative but he’d called her that on the first day and it had stuck. Zoomer liked it, much to Mike’s bafflement_ ), and Stalker or Lucas-my-man for Lucas ( _he doesn’t want to mess with a good nickname and had stated that Red was brilliant, simply brilliant mah dear. Mike had a theory that Richie used Stalker only to rile both Lucas and Max up at the same time since it was clearly a pet name and an inside joke between the couple_ ). With Will it was still up in the air. Cutie-pie, sweetie, Will-Will, all of them had been thrown around more than once.

            Mike wonders in the note as to what nicknames his twin will most likely gift her with when they do meet. And there’s a protectiveness that speaks to her as he promises that he’ll intervene if the nicknames are ones that she ends up not liking. She knows that she’ll have to add in her letter to him that she can’t wait. She also wonders what her nicknames will be and it feels important. Just as important as Mike giving her El, to know that she’ll receive a nickname from his twin.

            He talks about school and what they’re all learning about and how he’s counting down the days, much like she is until he gets the supercomm back. He’s also counting down the days until summer vacation and how they’ll be able to see each other more then. Hopefully. They have both taken to listing their various countdowns with the numbers for each noted somewhere on the paper, whether it’s woven into the message or marked in a corner.

            Today’s note includes a drawing from Will which is new. She sees Will’s handwriting is different than Mike’s but it fits the boy’s personality. He quickly says hello and apologizes for adding his drawing and message along with Mike’s. Apparently, Mike had nearly gotten the note confiscated by a teacher and Will had saved him and the note by taking it and hiding it just in time. However, Mike had left to do his _detention_ ( _now that is a word that she needs to look up. Will doesn’t explain and Mike has never mentioned detentions before…)._ Mike’s handwriting resumes for the rest of the note but there isn’t much more to it after that, and as always, it seems to end too quickly.

            She reads it over one more time before setting it aside to get her own sheet of paper. Carefully, she starts to respond to the letter. First by answering any questions that Mike asked before adding her own. She always hesitates in talking about her day because hers are so boring compared to his. It’s always the same things that she does and that she looks forward to but because he asks, she tries to share all that she’s been doing. The new words that she’s learned, the shows that she’s watched and what questions those have triggered, and all that she would like to do with him and the Party when school finally ends for them. Mike’s mentioned going swimming in the Quarry and eating ice cream and water balloon fights and all of those sound wonderful and magical.

            El is interrupted by Hopper who announces that dinner is ready. She sighs and puts the paper and pencil away. She’ll finish it later and maybe, maybe she’ll visit him in the Void again tonight.

 

Tbc... 

 

A/N - Thank you everyone for all the support around this story. It's truly amazing and I am so grateful to each and everyone of you. :) I realize this chapter is a bit shorter, so in order to remedy this, I will be posting a second one most likely Sunday night. It's already written but needs to be reread to hopefully catch any annoying typoes that always tend to make themselves into stories no matter how hard I try to weed them out. 


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

            The two boys are welcomed home from school one afternoon by an excited four year old who demands ( _cheerfully_ ) to be picked up. Mikey obliges, hoisting her up in one smooth motion that Richie is envious of. His twin just makes it look so easy while to his growing chagrin he still feels awkward as all get out picking up his little cousin and helping out in her caretaking. He hadn’t anticipated that bit and it leaves him feeling perplexed when the emotion hits him and he’s able to even properly name it for what it is.

            He hasn’t voiced his concern in this area and no one else has really commented on it but still… he worries. He’d like to be able to provide the same attention effortlessly. He likes the kid and he thinks ( _knows_ ) she likes him too. Or at least, she likes playing with him and all the silly voices he can make when Mikey and he are roped into providing story time. He’s never had someone _ask_ for his Voices before. It’s a nice change and it’s an addicting one.

            ( _What Richie doesn’t know is that this is all new-ish to Mike too in some ways. Her constant attention and wanting to be picked up and played with. The only advantage he has is having been there since her birth and having been taught the correct ways to hold a baby and then toddler – because he hadn’t been given a choice in the matter. It’s simply what older brothers, siblings, did in the Wheeler household.)_

            “What’s up Hols? You’re awfully happy today…” Mikey starts and the little girl chatters quickly yet quietly, hand motioning for Richie to come closer so he can hear better. At least that’s his first assumption as to why she wants him to come closer. It’s wrong though because she’s not worried about him being able to hear her. She just wants a hug.

            “I made you _something_.” She says proudly, weaving her toddler arm around Richie’s neck and pulling him closer. She doesn’t quite let go even after giving him a bit of a squeeze though and they’re left in an awkward position with Mikey and Richie nearly nose to nose with the little girl in between connecting them all together. Mikey starts to shift her weight as if to have Richie hold her and only the widening of Richie’s eyes stops his twin mid motion. Mikey gives him a bit of a look but shrugs readjusting his grip on the four year old and she’s left none the wiser.

            “You made _me_ something short stuff?” Richie asks feeling a bit choked up but his surprise is stronger than the other emotion currently trying to block his ability to speak, swallow and breath, and so he manages to free the words out.

            “Yes! Come see, come see!” Her arm leaves his neck, ruffling his hair on the way and then she’s all twisting limbs as she wordlessly asks to be put back down. Mikey huffs what sounds like a mixture of a sigh and laugh as the little girl runs off, leaving both of them still at the doorstep. “Come on _Mikey_ and _Richie!_ ”

            “We’re coming! Just give us a second to remove our shoes Hols.” Mikey sounds way too amused at the moment and he nudges Richie into following his motions. “Any guesses as to this mysterious gift?” His twin mutters under his breath.

            “No…? Should I have an idea of what it is?” Because he seriously doesn’t and feels way out of his depth here. Mikey simply smirks and shrugs again.

            “I dunno, a drawing maybe? Some sort of craft from daycare? You should feel flattered. Aunt Karen is practically the only one who gets Holly’s stuff.”

            “Really?!” His voice breaks on the word and some of what he’s feeling ( _which is a whole heck of a lot complicated and messy and how can something make him feel happy and sad and hurting and scared all at once? And he hasn’t even seen whatever she made him. God…the Wheelers were going to be the death of him._ ) must come through because the smirk on Mikey’s face softens into a little worried and caring smile.

            “Yeah, really. It’s a good thing…Come on.” He gets nudged again and after doing an awkward hop dance, he manages to kick off his second shoe off and place it somewhat next to the other one and out of the way.

            Together they go into the Kitchen where the four year old is doing some sort of wiggle dance around the table. Aunt Karen is there, a mischievous glint to her eye, smiling and only halfheartedly trying to calm the little girl down. There are various colorful objects strewn about the normally pristine table but he doesn’t quite get the chance to pay attention and identify everything because Holly is once again in his space and her hands are tugging at him to come closer.

            “Here, here… mommy told me how to spell it and I chose ALL the colors. All by myself!” It’s not a drawing. But it is a handmade craft. It’s a beaded bracelet that she thrusts in one of his hands while her chubby fingers keep a tight hold of his other. His eyes take the creation in slowly, trying to make sense of what is happening and what it all means.

            Each round bead is a different color creating a pretty rainbow pattern that surrounds the middle beads that spell out his name. Those beads are smaller and square and white with black lettering. R-I-C-H-I-E. The string that is keeping it all together is thick dark brown leather that’s been tied closed in an intricate knot. “Do you like it?” The excited little voice is now a hushed whisper, anxious and worried as if it were even a possibility that he would not love it. His throat is tight though and his eyes suddenly hurt with how badly they’re prickling and he’s having a hard time finding the words to say how much he does like it. He’s never received anything like this. Ever.

            There’s a little noise that’s trying to leave his tight throat and it’s not an encouraging noise. It’s between a sob and a cough and this is fucking embarrassing. The situation is made worse when Aunt Karen simply says his name softly before pulling him into a hug. He has no idea how and when she moved that quickly. That in itself is surprising and horrifying and comforting and oh god, the tears that were merely prickling before are now slipping past and…

            She’s never touched him like this before. She’s never dared and he’s never given her this kind of opening. Still right now he can’t think to fight it and her arms simply tighten around him, giving him a way to hide his face from the four year old because he just can’t… not right now.

            “I think he loves it, Hols.” Mikey’s voice sounds out quietly, tone reassuring and sounding from somewhere on the ground. Richie tries to focus on that voice, tries to imagine what his twin is doing, tries to do anything but feel what he is feeling. Most likely, his mind tells him, Mikey is kneeling on the ground to face Holly and soothe her.

            “Oh?” Her voice is even more hushed and sad sounding yet trying to be hopeful too. “Happy tears?”

            “Happy tears.” Mikey confirms. And then Richie feels tiny arms just wrap tightly around his legs which does jack shit in terms of him putting a lid on all the feeling bull shit he’s suddenly overwhelmed with.

…

            It actually doesn’t take Richie too long to regain his composure in Mike’s opinion. It’s probably a bit too fast but he’s also painfully aware of how Richie is when it comes to showing vulnerability outside their shared bedroom. He watches as his twin sort of rigidly steps out of both of the holds, overly large smile plastered back on and a quick swipe to his cheeks dry them free of any tears. He slips the bracelet on his left wrist and shakes it much to the delight of the now very subdued four year old.

            His voice is slightly rougher than usual but he does kneel down and give Holly an actual hug.

            “Thanks short stuff. I love it, really.” And then he surprises all of them with his next question. Mike thought for sure that some excuse to get out of the house or even back into the protection of their shared room was coming. “Can you teach me how to make them? I want to make one for you…”

            It’s how Nancy comes to find all four of them still at the Kitchen table hours later, beads of various colors, sizes, and shapes spread all around. Holly has several finished bracelets around both of her wrists and Richie is not far behind the little girl. Although his collection is only resting on one wrist, the left one and Mike would guess that it’s a new shield that will protect the scar from being revealed once the stitches and the bandage finally get taken away.

            Mike himself has a simple black leather chorded bracelet with Richie’s nickname for him spelled out that he’s wearing. He declined having others made for him and managed to distract Holly from convincing him that he needed more bracelets of brighter colors by instead asking her to make one for each of the Party members. That had brought on a heck of a lot of excited chatter and Mike’s already amused at the expression Max will have when she’s presented with her bright pink one. And it had worked in keeping his little sister busy enough that he didn’t have to explain for who he was making the bracelet he was currently working on.

            “Hello,” Nancy says the greeting, sounding bemused. “What’s going on here?” She asks, leaning against the doorframe and soaking everything in.

            “Nancy!” She watches as her mother jumps up, looking at once more relaxed than she has in ages and more flustered too. “What time is it?” A quick glance around reveals that dinner should have been started ages ago and there’s a flurry of motion that follows the revelation.

            The boys are asked to help move the jewelry making kit somewhere else while Nancy is asked to help with dinner. Holly chats happily away, following the boys as they restore the kitchen table to some semblance of order.

            “Hey short stuff?” Richie starts and Holly stops and tilts her head up to look at him, thumb going to her mouth absentmindedly. “Why did you pick these colors for me?” He points to the first bracelet that had started it all.

            “Oh. ‘cause… you have a lot of many bright happy shirts.” Holly starts her explanation with the confidence only a child can have. When the world simply makes sense and when it doesn’t, there’s the knowledge and security that adults will step in and make the world make sense again. Mike knows with her simple description that she must be talking about Richie’s Hawaiian shirts and arches an eyebrow wondering where this is going. “Your bracelet can match any of them!”

            “So fashionable.” Richie mutters with a bit of a smirk towards Mike that leads him to roll his eyes in response. “You’re a smart cookie.”

            “Uh huh. I know.” And well, what the fuck can you say to that? Mike snorts and simply ruffles Holly’s hair before getting them all back on track.

            Last thing they need is to get reprimanded for not setting the dinner table quickly enough.

…

            To be honest, Mike isn’t expecting another outburst. Dinner goes smoothly and Richie seems fine. More than fine. Perhaps a little distracted and every so often, Mike had caught his twin over the course of dinner moving his wrist just so to get the bracelets to move. It was like he still couldn’t convince himself that they were real. Still, it had seemed normal enough and Mike can admit that his own simple bracelet felt weird against his skin. He can only imagine what it feels like to have the half dozen that Richie now has and Mike simply pushes the observation to the side. So he’s a little caught off guard when they finally climb up to their shared bedroom a handful of hours later and his twin crashes on him.

            The door closes behind them and it’s like the mask simply falls off at the sound of the click. Richie is just standing there – slight sway in his lanky form that leads him to lean back against the door with a slight muffled thud. It’s the noise that leads Mike to even looking back over his shoulder and pause on his way to his bed. He stills at what he sees and also at what he doesn’t. Richie’s expression is hidden from view as he’s looking to the ground, dark brown curls getting in the way of Mike seeing what’s there.

            “…” He’s about to ask when Richie’s leaning body just slowly slides down, like a puppet whose puppeteer had finally cut the strings loose and carelessly let their creation just drop. Show’s done, curtain’s dropped.

            Richie curls in on himself, knees drawn tightly to his chest and forehead leaning against those bony knees and Mike’s brought back to the very first night together following Richie’s nightmare.

            “… I can’t do this…I can’t do this…” It’s a mumble of words and Mike doesn’t understand at first but as he slowly inches over, he does. The repetition helps although it freaks him out too. Still it doesn’t stop him from making his way over and coming to sit right next to his brother so that they’re shoulder to shoulder. “I can’t fucking do this…” The words are laced with desperation and panic and… “I can’t, Mikey, I can’t…” Mike isn’t sure what it is that Richie feels he can’t do. He’s also not sure that asking right now is going to get them anywhere because with the way Richie’s words are starting to speed up and mash together and the way his voice is rising and hitching, there’s either more tears coming or a full blown panic attack.

            “How’d they pick between us Mikey? Huh? How’d they pick who stayed and who got taken and this is so, so, so utterly fucked up. I can’t do it anymore…” His heart’s hammering within his own chest and it hurts to hear the question spoken out loud. He’d wondered that same thing too… “It hurts too much! What the fuck am I supposed to do with all of this?”

            Mike wordlessly shakes his head. He doesn’t know any answers. He doesn’t know any way to comfort this kind of hurt. He hasn’t really known what to do himself. Not really. Not anything beyond what he’s been doing. Moving forward, one step at a time.             He slowly leans into Richie to show he’s here and that he’s listening and that he at least, isn’t fucking going anywhere. It’s the physical presence that seems to break whatever small composure Richie had still been holding on to. The floodgates open and for a few handful of minutes, the shared room is filled with the sound of muffled crying and nothing else.         

            Mike’s body silently trembles with the force of Richie’s sobs and he can’t help but hate the adults in his life just a bit for everything that they’ve caused, intentionally or not.

…

            It’s barely a handful of minutes that pass before the shaking starts to lessen. Though the tears are starting to slow down, Richie’s words are still slurred by the emotions and Mike strains to understand them the first time around. “I’m such a shit of a person.” Mike’s hands tense into a fist.

            “Why would you say that…?!” He can’t help but ask, feeling angry and defensive and protective all at once. By his books, Richie is _not_ the one who’s shit in this scenario. There’s many other players who fit that bill better and it’s so hard to hate someone you also desperately love and used to trust and still partly do trust because they’re a parent.

            “Because I’m forgetting her… because part of me wants to forget her and yet I miss her. And because I want to be you… I wish I’d had this from the very beginning. And what kind of shitty son and person does that make me?!”

            “Not shitty…” Mike whispers forcibly. “Richie, it’s not you that’s _shitty_. It’s everything and everybody else…”

            “I want my mom, Mikey…. I want her back and yet I’m glad she’s gone too…because now I’m here. And it’s… ” Richie just shakes his head, hands pressing against his eyes as he just leans into Mike hard. The words trail off and for a thundering heartbeat, the two of them are quiet.

            Mike not really knowing what to say beyond wanting to scream and rant about how none of this was their fault and Richie was not shitty and that it was okay to want to be here. That it was okay for him to like it here with them. That it was okay for him to be jealous of him. But his throat is tight, a mixture of anger and helplessness and confusion and sadness warring within him.

            Richie is quiet as the outburst of emotions is calming. The storm is passing as it always does and the numbness is crawling back in. It’s a soothing balm and he can focus on feeling the way Mikey is breathing beside him rather than the thoughts that are still buzzing angrily in his head. He can focus on the feeling of the drying tears on his cheeks ( _how it weirdly itches and feels hot and tight as if the skin of his face suddenly shrunk and no longer fits quite right_ ) and the way his fingers are crushing his glasses into his face. All of it is better than the chaos of his mind.

            He feels more than hears the way his brother takes a deep breath in as if bracing himself for some sort of fight. Richie wishes he had the energy to tell Mikey to save his breath. This isn’t a fight worth fighting. He’s calmer now and he knows there’s nothing to do, nothing to change, nothing to fight. He just has to come to accept that this is his life.

            _Their_ life.

            They’ll most likely never know why or how the women chose to separate them, divvy them up between the two of them. Richie’s definitely never going to be able to fucking ask. It’s too dangerous to ask. And what would he do with the knowledge anyway? It wouldn’t change the fact that he’d been with their mother and Mikey had been with their Aunt.

            “…Richie?” Mikey starts slowly. He grunts his acknowledgement and Mikey continues. “…could you, I mean… maybe it would help to not forget her… if you could tell me about her… like what she was like?” He can’t help but tense at the question.

            He feels weirdly empty. He feels weirdly full. Like the intense emotions that had _just_ gone into hiding, into retreating god knows where, were starting to shore up their next attack.

            His eyes feel full of sandpaper and so he shuts them as he contemplates whether opening his mouth and answering the question will save him or break him. Will it help in remembering her? In feeling less guilty for wanting his current life to have been his only life? In feeling less jealous of Mikey’s world and hating himself for it because Mikey is slowly but surely becoming his _everything_ and he can’t… he just… it’s really all too fucked up. He’s fucked up.

            “…it’s okay… it’s okay to also not talk about her.” Mikey continues awkwardly and Richie feels the tears threaten to come again. The gentle comforting acceptance despite it being packaged awkwardly, was still present and there. He knows if the situation had been reversed, that his curiosity would not have allowed for the questions to go unanswered. Not that he wouldn’t have cared about the pain it would cause it just…

            “She was a drunk…” He starts off woodenly.

 

…it just…

 

            “…but she was kind and quiet and she could be funny. She liked to read… she read a lot actually…”

 

…it just highlighted how different the two of them were…

 

            “…and she wanted a daughter.”

 

...or maybe it simply highlighted that Mikey had been taught to both take and give and comfort while Richie had merely learned to survive by taking the little he could where he could. There had never been anything really left over to give.

            Except his Voices and his obnoxious stories and jokes to keep reality from getting too heavy and too real.

            Because reality sucked.

            Everything just sucked…

            He talks about her though until he runs out of words and his mouth is dry, just like his eyes. Memories of her face are in his mind, all three versions – the good, the semi-good, the bad – and the pain is there hand in hand with the numbness. It’s strange to be feeling both at the same time but it’s the truth or at least, it’s his truth and he doesn’t know how else to describe it. There’s the weird exhaustion that’s leaving him feeling heavy and he hopes that it means he won’t have a nightmare tonight.

            He knows he will though because he hasn’t had one single night since coming here free of them.

            As he falls quiet, Mikey remains still. The silence stretches between them and Richie vaguely wonders what it’s like to hear stories about a stranger that is technically your mom who… abandoned? Gave away? Protected you by placing you somewhere else…?

            He hears Mikey clearing his throat. “Richie, you know the promise you wanted me to make?” He has to wrack his brain but finally he nods. “I know I said, I’d do my best…that I’d try.”

            “Yeah,” The whisper is soft and brittle.

            “…Fuck that. It’ll be over my dead body if we get separated again.” It’s genuine. Richie knows that. Yet he can’t help the little chuckle it pulls from him. Mikey’s such a fucking hero.

            “I know. I figured you out after day two here, Mikey-baby…”

…

            The next day finds the twins back at school, masks back in place. The Party greets them as usual never the wiser although slightly perplexed by the beaded offerings that are given out during their shared lunch. Max in particular looks more than a little startled as Mike offers her the pink bracelet with “Red Mad Max” spelled out.

            “Couldn’t decide on the nickname to use?” She asks while slipping it on and tightening the leather band securely around her wrist. She gets answered with a little shrug from one twin and a manic grin from the other.

            “Seems fitting…” Dustin mutters, as he looks over Max’s shoulder to inspect hers. He’s already rolled his eyes good naturedly at seeing his - red, white and blue to match his beloved hat and with Richie’s nickname for him. He hasn’t quite tied it to his wrist just yet, fingers playing with the beads and glancing around the rest of the group to see how the others fared. “What inspired you guys to get into jewelry making of all things?”

            “Yeah, seriously, what gives? And how did you manage to make one that looks all camo?” Lucas asks, pleased by how his looks while he decides that bracelets just aren’t his thing but that he’ll keep it safely tied to his backpack strap. If he kept it on his wrist it would just get in the way of his wrist rocket at some future date and he just can’t have that…

            “Holly…” Mike answers succinctly and leaves it at that after briefly glancing over at Richie.

            Will catches the look because he’s been quietly observing all of them, a little smile playing on his face. The small moment makes him lose the smile for just a second because he feels the worry flare up in his friend and it makes him focus on Richie just a bit harder. There’s nothing outwardly different in the lanky teen, still all teasing grins, and currently talking with a Spanish accent challenging Dustin to some sort of bizarre dual…

            … Will glances back at Mike.

            That’s definitely Mike’s worried face. It disappears when Mike catches him looking at him, expression morphing into a slightly exasperated yet amused look instead.

            “Our friends are crazy…”

            “We’re all a _little_ crazy.”

 

Tbc... 

 

A/N - I wanted to give a shout out to EudociaCovert who created a wonderful playlist to go with this story and it is /amazing/. I think I successfully linked the playlist to the story but I have to admit, I am technologically challenged so if for some reason I messed that up, please let me know if you're wanting to find it. It's called "Long Lost Child fanmix". :) 

Also, if you’re curious, Will’s bracelet is in his favorite color with “Will-Will” spelled out. And yes, Mike totally made one for El in pale blue and pink to match the dress that she wore to the Snow Ball. And he’s totally planning on getting it to her via the penpal exchange he’s got going on. :) 


	20. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tbh - I never know what to write in these. :) More happens as the twins get closer and Richie learns more about the Party. Does that work as a chapter summary??? :P

Chapter 19

 

            It happens during their lunch period, early in his fourth week here when Mikey’s detentions are over, because of course it would. It’s the only time when they aren’t being watched like fucking hawks by their teachers. Lunch period is normally more boisterous and playful for _everyone_. Even the popular crowd who act like they’re so much older and mature than the rest of them start to act like their obnoxious age again.     

            Yeah, they were now in a grade that didn’t get a full recess like all the previous years and so it was only natural that their energy had to come out during the only down time that was scheduled for them. Forget eating lunch. That was only one part of what this scheduled hour was all about. At least, that was Richie’s opinion of lunch and after having been forced to sit through nearly five hours of straight lecture, he had a lot of fucking steam to let loose.

            The earlier the food was stuffed down, the faster they could all head outside and breathe some fresh air. Typically, the Party managed to eat their lunches all the while having decent conversations anywhere between thirty to forty minutes. That always got them at least thirty or twenty minutes of outside time. Unless it was shitty weather, then they all stayed hunkered in the cafeteria or asked to be allowed to access the A/V room early. Today was a gorgeous Spring day though and Richie was antsy to get outside.

            The conversation that started flowed calmly enough, just some easy back and forth bantering between Richie, Dusty, and Red as they started to eat. Maybe a little bit of smack talk woven in but that was only because they were each reviewing their prowess at the arcade and challenging each other for their next trip down there. Mikey had made his opinion known mainly through pointed sighs and eye rolls here and there while Lucas-my-man was quick to jump in when he thought any of _them_ were being point blank ridiculous. The guy seriously had a stick stuffed deep up his ass that needed to be yanked out. Will simply smiled, making little affirmative noises that seemed to agree with all of them and none of them at the same time. Supportive but neutral. He was clearly following the conversation more so than Mikey was at first but then he too had gotten pulled into a quieter side conversation with his twin. That was probably why all of this got out of hand in the first place.

            Richie’s smack talk may have gotten a bit more brutal. He honestly isn’t sure because if he’d been with the Losers, well, they were _used_ to his trash mouth. They also would have given him warning that he was going too far by beeping him. The indicator that he’s gone too far comes _after_ Red smacks him hard in his good arm and storms off and Dusty’s cheerful expression looks equally mortified and offended.

            “Dude, _not_ cool!” Lucas snaps, banging his tray away from him as he tries to get up quickly to follow his girlfriend. It’s the noise and Lucas’ tone of voice that pulls both Mikey and Will back into paying attention. Mikey looks bewildered at the sudden turn of events and a little at a loss as to what the hell is going on. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Richie isn’t given a chance to respond as Lucas leaves the table with an equally dark look thrown Mikey’s way. It’s clear it’s meant to communicate, _this is your mess, fix it!_

            “Yeah,” Dusty mutters, eyes glancing back and forth to where Red and her Stalker have disappeared off to and where Richie is still sitting. “Don’t you know there’s some lines you _don’t_ cross?”

            “I…It was meant to be _funny_ not insulting.” Richie mutters in his defense rubbing at the now very sore spot on his upper arm. The girl can seriously pack a mean ass punch. He has a feeling he’ll be bruising.

            “Seriously?!” Dusty looks incredulous and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath that Richie can’t quite hear.

            “Yes, seriously! She’s the coolest one of you bunch. Why would I try and piss her off?!” He’s trying to ignore how Will is subtly trying to catch Mikey up as to what the hell has happened in the span of five minutes when he’d apparently gone to fucking _lala land_. Nice to know that Will-Will can at least keep track of the entire group even when holding an entirely different conversation.

            “Nice. Real nice.” Dusty huffs rather sourly.

            “Dustin…” Will starts and Richie turns to him, suddenly desperate to not have the entire group turn on him. He can’t handle that right now. He still feels too raw from everything he’d shared with Mikey back home and just…

            He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he fucks it up here.

            “I’ll trust _you_ with my mute button.”

            “What?!” All three of them exclaim with very different emotions and expressions coloring the word.

            “I don’t have a fucking filter… or well, it’s hard for me to have one when I’m so fucking tired all the time. If I ever start going too far, just say ‘beep beep Richie’ and I’ll know I have to shut it.”

            “Why are you telling him? I’m _your_ brother!” Richie waves that question away, staying focused solely on Will. The truth is, and he’ll tell Mikey this later ( _maybe_ ), but his twin doesn’t actually need to tell him beep beep. There’s a certain tone of voice, a certain look that Mikey can throw his way and he knows to stop right then and there. Giving him the beep beep method would just be over doing things and giving his twin way too much power.

            “Please? I’ll ignore it if the others beep me. Good Ol’ Dusty will totally go overboard with it and that will just egg me on. I know _you_ ’ll use it wisely.”

            “This is _such_ bull shit.” Mikey again but the words lack actual venom and Richie’s pretty confident that his twin is putting on more of a show than actually feeling hurt by Richie in this very moment. Dusty, however, is making a bit of a squawking noise. Will looks more and more flustered but he does end up opening his mouth briefly before closing it to bite his bottom lip, clearly feeling torn by the entire situation.

            “Please?” Richie has never been above begging. And though Will averts his eyes at Richie’s puppy dog face to look at Mikey with a clear _help me_ expression, the peace maker ends up making the decision all by himself. Probably because Mikey was looking so very unimpressed at the time Will turned to him for help.

            “Only if you apologize to Max…” Richie whoops and punches the air in victory before swooping in to give Will a big and loud kiss on the cheek.

            “Thank you, _mah_ _dah-ling_ cutie pie. And will do, will do, I promise.” He states with his Southern Belle Voice. With that decided upon, Richie glances at his watch and figures that enough time has passed that hopefully Red will have calmed down just enough to accept his apology. If not, he’ll grovel any way he has to until he wins himself back into her good graces. He winks at Will’s blushing face and grabs his tray, Lucas’ and Red’s knowing it’s the least he can do since he made the other two storm off. He’s only a couple steps away from the table when he hears Mikey start to laugh and something about Will’s face is now being discussed by the remaining three Party members.

            “I should _beep beep_ both of you.” He hears the smaller boy threaten his friends weakly and Richie has to force himself to keep walking out of the cafeteria when part of him suddenly really wants to stay and continue with the teasing.

            Will-will is just so _dang_ cute!

…

            Richie finds Red and Stalker outside, sitting on the steps that lead to the courtyard. They’re talking quietly, heads bowed towards one another. This leads to him trying to make himself known by clearing his throat rather than find himself intruding on a potentially awkward conversation. Lucas looks up with a bit of a frown, clearly still angry on Red’s behalf but also not looking surprised to find him there. Red also looks towards him and half stands.

            “Hey. Can I talk to you, Red? I want to apologize for being a dick back there.” He offers with a sheepish smile. She doesn’t quite smile back but she does give Lucas a nod to an unspoken question that’s shared between them with a quick look. The other teen hesitates for a bit before sighing and giving them space. Just enough that he can’t overhear per se, but not so distant that he can’t keep a visual tab on them.

            “You here because you drew first blood…?” She mutters quietly, sitting back down on the step and patting a nearby space for him to join her. He takes the invite and squats next to her, not quite sitting, because fuck that. He’s way too antsy and this way, he can sort of rock back on his heels and just… it’s different then sitting and that’s a good thing.

            “I fucking what…?” He asks taken off guard by the question.

            “Drew first blood? Oh God, Wheeler and the others haven’t lectured you on the Party golden rules? I’m shocked!”

            “Appalling, just appalling.” He agrees still bewildered by the terminology being thrown his way and the light tone that she’s using with him. She’s avoiding looking at him and yeah, it’s only been like four weeks now ( _really three and half if you’re going to be all technical about it_ ) of knowing each other so he could be off. But she’s always struck him as someone who faces challenges straight on. He doesn’t think he’s ever encountered this side of her and his stomach suddenly feels like lead. He must have really said something awful. “What the fuck does it even mean? Drawing first blood?” He asks even though he doesn’t actually care. He just wants to fix the situation.

            “Oh,” She starts, wrinkling her nose. “If someone in the Party starts a fight, it’s their responsibility to fix the situation. You know apologize, take responsibility for their actions… I think there’s something about shaking on it. They’re actually really strict about their golden rules. It’s why I figured you’d been sent out here…”

            “Huh,” He nudges his glasses further up his nose with his pointer finger, an unconscious nervous habit. “I would have come out here regardless. I mean, I put my foot in my mouth and hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t at all what I wanted. I mean, you’re Mad Max, Red. You’re the cool one of this little Party and my favorite. Though don’t tell Mikey that. He might get jealous.” He tries to slow himself down but can’t. She’s looking at him now though which he takes as a good sign so he just carries on. “I get a little cagey after having to be good and sit still for hours at a time and it’s like all the words just have to come rushing out of my mouth or I’ll explode and by the time my brain catches up, well… honestly, I never really feel like my brain ever catches up. It’s always very busy in here.” He points a finger to his head and gives her a crooked grin.

            “Sounds… uncomfortable.”

            “It’s fucking exhausting,” He admits, running a hand through his hair and ruffling it. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you though…”

            “I know.” She says softly and looks away from him. “I’m sorry too.”

            “What are you sorry for?” Richie asks, beyond startled. _Again_.

            “Because, I knew you were just messing around, we all were, and you didn’t mean anything by it. But I still,” Red makes a slight face and sighs. “I still got really mad and I can’t believe I punched you for it. You didn’t deserve that. It’s just I get so angry some times and… I hate that. I thought I was doing better.” There’s a distant look that crosses her face then. As if she’s lost inside her own thoughts or maybe emotions and Richie’s stuck between needing to poke her back to the here and now and back to their conversation or letting her stay where she is and be a silent witness. Being silent has never been his strong suite. So he pokes. Verbally anyway. But a little bit warier, filter back in place. Will-will’s not here to fucking beep beep him after all.

            “Doing better…?” The question draws her back just like he’d hoped and he watches as her eyes scan his face before she sighs.

            “Did Wheeler share anything about … why I moved to Hawkins?” Richie shakes his head. He knows she’s originally from California and any mention of that always leads to Good ol’ Dusty and Stalker using the word _tubular_ to everyone’s affectionate annoyance. Mikey has never mentioned the reasons behind the move, nor has he mentioned anything about her family come to think of it. She doesn’t seem overly surprised at learning that Mikey hasn’t shared and instead just gives a little nod before she continues. “My parents divorced and my mom got remarried and just… they both felt like they needed to move to start _afresh_ , like the problems they were facing were due to my dad. Which isn’t true at all… _he’s_ not the problem. My stepbrother, he… he’s a problem. He was angry before, it got worse when we moved. And well…” She trails off with another sigh, eyes darting to look briefly at where Stalker is still clearly waiting, watching over them like a silent protector. “… all of them can tell you that I was pretty angry too. I wasn’t always the nicest when they were trying to befriend me.” The last bit is shared in a hushed whisper. Like she’s still holding on to the guilt or shame of those memories. “I just, I didn’t want to be _anything_ like my stepbrother. Admitting that I’m angry too and that I also lash out like that…I don’t like it. I don’t like that I’m like that at all.”

            “I don’t know your stepbrother,” He starts cutting her off gently. “But something about the Party makes me think that you’re not anything like him. If you were, they wouldn’t tolerate it…right?” Red holds his gaze then, clear hope and wanting to believe warring with guilt. “And I know for a fact that I am _the_ king at pissing people off. Like seriously. I’ve pissed people off so much at my old school that I had someone literally take a shit in my backpack.” ( _That’s not quite true and he knows it, but stretching the truth to make a point and get her to smile again, is worth it. She doesn’t need to know how bad the bullying was back where he used to live. She doesn’t need to know and even though the memory is there, it’s hazy now. And any sting that used to be attached is faded and dull.)_ “And here we are, like what? Three-four weeks into knowing each other and this is the first time ever you’ve shown me even a bit of that temper that you say you have. So, you’re not like him…cause you’ve shared very little, missy, but the little pieces makes me think he’s a total douche and you, are most definitely not one. Capische?” He wags a finger in her face for further effect and pulls at least a shaky laugh from her. Her eyes look a bit watery though and he finds himself sighing and shifting so that they’re now sitting side-by-side, shoulders bumping into each other in a sign of easy camaraderie. A different type of hug. She leans into him and he takes it as a sign that all is forgiven. He hopes that he’s correct in this and stays quiet for at least a good heartbeat or two before having to do _something._     

            “So you mentioned Party golden rules?” She laughs then with a roll of her eyes.

            “Yeah, man, Wheeler is going to get so much shit from Dustin if he ever finds out that you don’t know them yet.”

            “Do me a favor, Red. Help a brother out. What are these golden rules so I can at least _try_ and not fuck things up _too_ badly.”

            “Alright, alright…” She tugs a strand of red hair out of her face before putting up one finger. “The most important one: Friends Don’t Lie. They’re like super severe about that one although you’ll see them lie their faces off and not give a shit to anyone outside of the Party.” The way she says that bit makes him think that she may have been on the receiving end at some point because her tone is just slightly bitter. However, he doesn’t get a chance to ask because she moves on to the next rule. “The Party Sticks Together No Matter What – this rule came after the Blood Stone Path campaign. You’ll have to ask Dustin for more details as to what happened in the actual campaign. All I remember is that the Party split up and it all went to shit.”

            “Oh god, they’re such nerds. You mean all these rules can be tied to their D&D campaigns?” Richie rocks back on his heels briefly, shaking his head. He shouldn’t be surprised but still. Red smiles at him.

            “I’m pretty sure, yeah. Still want to hear the rest?” He sighs but nods. After all, he is part of the Party now. Mikey’s even been working on a character for him and has been trying to win him over to the dark side by saying he could put his Voices to good use in the game. “Alright, well, you know about the Drawing First Blood bit. I think the other is Friends Don’t Break Promises, ever.” Her tone gets a bit softer on that one but before he can ask about that one as well, she continues with more of the Golden Rules.

            Dusty, Will-will and Mikey find them still reviewing the rules and just like expected, Dusty makes a weird noise at overhearing the content of the conversation.

            “What’s this? Why are you guys talking about the Party rules?” He’s giving Mikey the stink eye as if he already knows the answer to his questions. Mikey rolls his eyes in response.

            “We haven’t had a campaign yet, when would I have filled him in? Honestly Dustin…”

            “This isn’t just rules for when we’re campaigning! This is about being in the Party.”

            “See, I told you…” Red whispers in Richie’s ear and Richie has to agree. She was truly spot on.

            “Come on guys,” Will-Will is trying to placate everyone. “He knows now…”

            “Yeah, from Mad Max.” Dusty mutters sourly. “And we all know how well she knows the rules. We had to review the whole drawing blood bit just weeks ago with her. You and Lucas are _horrible_ teachers.” The last bit is stated directly at Mikey who’s looking more than a little offended.

            “Hey!” Red jumps up to defend either herself, her boyfriend or Mikey – Richie isn’t exactly sure which. Either way, he has to grin at them as they all start bickering, Stalker joining them from where he’d been hunkered down before. They’re such a nerdy mess.

            It’s awesome.

 

Tbc...

 


	21. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike's pissy (aka lemon sucking) face is threatening to become a permanent fixture in his life because of one school counselor's meddling. No one thought she'd disappear completely right? And Richie just wants to lay low...

Chapter 20

 

            Richie knows that Mikey’s current scowl is due to nerves. After all, it wasn’t typical for the mama’s boy to have his parents… oh fuck… guardians called out to the school. This was apparently the third time this academic year that it was happening. The first time back in the fall for Mikey-baby’s apparent “graffiti-ing” the bathroom stalls and fudged homework assignment. The second time after the fight with Troy and now… well now, neither of them knew why the Wheeler seniors were called to the school. They just knew that the meeting was taking place right now and that the topic of conversation was both of them.

            Nancy had already peppered them with questions until Mikey had snapped at her one time too many. She’d backed off from questioning them but had roped them into helping with making dinner and watching Holly. Richie had taken up the task of entertaining the youngest Wheeler after taking one look at Mikey’s face. He’d shooed his twin into peeling the potatoes, promising that he’d read Holly a book or something. At the moment though, he actually had the younger girl perched on his shoulders and he was running around the house, filling each room with her laughter.

            That was much better than thinking about what was happening back at the school.

            Dinner was actually done and Holly in bed by the time the Wheeler seniors come back. Ted merely nods a greeting at all of them before accepting the reheated plate of food. Aunt Karen however takes the time to give each of them a hug and to thank them for making dinner and watching Holly. She hesitates when Nancy hands her a plate.

            “I’d like it if you could all join us…” It’s a statement, partly a question, and it seems nervous to him. Richie sighs and shoots Mikey a look. This doesn’t sound good in the slightest. Mikey doesn’t seem to like it any better but he simply nods and starts to head over forcing Richie to follow right behind. Nancy follows too after a second of hesitation.

            It’s quiet at first save for the sound of silverware on plates. There are the appropriate appreciative hums around mouthfuls of bites of the quick dinner that had been thrown together. The hums are more from Ted, whose eyes are glued to the food. Aunt Karen does take a bite or two but she’s watching them, not the food.

            “Did everything go okay at the school?” Nancy ends up breaking the silence and Mikey shoots her a look for it that she returns. It’s clear to Richie that Nancy thinks no matter what happens, they’re going to be told _something_. Might as well get it over with. Aunt Karen places her fork down and takes a sip of her water before giving a little sigh.

            “Yes.” She starts quietly. “Everything went okay. Principal Nolan and Ms. Sandy simply wanted to check in with us and give recommendations.”

            “Ms. Sandy?” Nancy looks confused while Mikey’s face imitates quite nicely someone who’s sucked on a lemon for the very first time. It’s not a good look on his twin’s face and he makes a mental note to not ever imitate it.

            “She’s the school counselor.” Richie finds himself chipping in, offering the explanation and wondering why she’d be involved in the meeting at all. As far as he was aware, neither he nor Mikey had taken her up on her offer for little chats. Richie wouldn’t have been opposed per se but after the way Mikey had acted the first time Ms. Sandy had asked to meet with them… It just hadn’t been worth Mikey’s ire.

            Still, as he wracks his tired brain, he realizes that she has been coming to several of their classes this past week. She never stays overly long and she never tries to engage them in any conversation. She simply would perch in a corner and observe the class, taking notes here and there on a pad of paper. Sometimes, if the entire class had been working on a project or taking a test, she would talk to their teacher. Mikey would always be so tense on those days but nothing had ever come of it and after the first handful of times, Richie had simply tuned her out. Now though, he wonders if he should have paid more attention.

            “Oh…” Nancy frowns then and her eyes go back to her mother’s form. “What sort of recommendations did they want to talk to you about?”

            “Well,” Aunt Karen glances briefly at her husband and Richie really wishes he knew how those two met and came to be together. His weeks at the Wheeler household have not changed his initial impression of the man. If anything, it’s only worsened his opinion. “They’re worried about you two.” Mikey makes a noise that’s part question and partly sounds like an unhappy wet cat and Aunt Karen rushes to specify. “Not behaviorally or academically, really. All of the reports from your teachers say that the two of you are doing well in your classes and Michael, they only had good things to say about the way you handled yourself during your detentions and they’ve been pleased about how you’ve stayed away from Troy.”

            “Okay…” His twin sounds even more suspicious as he trails the word out and Richie tries to not roll his eyes. Why the hell would either of them have gone looking for Troy anyway? Grown ups. They made no sense to him. “So… what are they worried about?”

            “They’re worried about…” She hesitates again as if she’s not sure how to say the words. As if by saying them out loud, it’ll somehow make it true.

            “Mom,” Nancy prods, tone a little sharp and Richie has to admit that he’s with Nancy on this one. He could do with a little hurrying it up and getting down to the actual issue. Still, the sharp tone causes the worry on Aunt Karen’s face to morph into slight irritation.

            “Nancy, please.”

            “They want us to take you to a shrink.” Ted surprises them all by actually adding to the conversation around a bite of chicken.

            “Ted, honestly.” Aunt Karen’s voice sounds out at the same time as Mikey’s affronted exclamation.

            “Excuse me?!”

            “Now Michael, honey, they’re only recommending that because they’ve noticed signs that the two of you aren’t getting enough sleep and if that continues, its going to impact your academics. Also,” She glances at Richie here and he sits up a bit straighter. “They just think it will help with both of you adjusting to everything.”

            “And stop me from being a pain in the ass in class?” The curse slips out and before Ted can call him on it, Richie says it for him. “Language, I know. I know.” The older man still gives him a look for it.

            “Richie, no. They just think some testing is necessary.”

            “Testing?!” Mikey’s voice breaks over the word. “No, absolutely not. There’s _nothing_ wrong with us.”

            “Michael…”

            “No! Screw the school. We’re not getting tested and we’re not meeting some _shrink_ just cause some school counselor thinks we need to. We’re adjusting just fine.” And with that piece being said, Mikey pushes away and stands up, clearly done with the conversation. Richie follows him but from all that he’s learned about Aunt Karen, he knows it’s not over simply because Mikey says no.

            He has a feeling that in the next handful of days, they’re going to be meeting with whoever was recommended to her that they see whether they like it or not.

…

            Nancy leaves the house that night with the excuse that she needs to study for a test. It’s an old and worn out excuse and it sounds feeble even in her ears but her father doesn’t question it ( _has never questioned it_ ) and her mother simply gives her a pointed look before sighing in a way that tugs at Nancy’s heart. Her mother sounds painfully tired and without any fight left in her.

            Nancy wishes she could take the words back. She knows how hard and stressful everything has been and that having the school recommend that Mike and Richie be seen by a therapist is probably not helping her mother feel better about any of it.

            Still, she can’t take the words back. It’s important that Hopper be told immediately about these _recommendations_. She’d asked about the names of the specialists that this Ms. Sandy had given her parents and she wants them to be checked out.

            It couldn’t hurt any of them to be too careful after everything...

            So she heads out and walks down town, choosing for once to stay in her own company versus asking Jonathan to drive her. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see him. It’s just that lately, she’s also realizing how much Jonathan is taking on and the toll it has on him. Juggling watching over Will and dealing with his mother’s grief and all the drama the Wheeler family that she brings into the fray…

            She sighs. She’d really like it if for once one of her wishes could come true. A peaceful year would be so, so, so lovely right about now.

            Hopper’s secretary, Flo, blinks at her in confusion when she pushes through the open door and asks if the Chief is in. She doesn’t make Nancy’s life difficult though. Simply warns her that the man is in one of his moods and may not be the most helpful before waving her towards the office.

            Nancy knocks on the closed door, waiting for the gruff man’s voice to let her in. She steels herself before walking in after hearing the curt “come in already.” The look he shoots her is hard to describe.

            “You here to give me some good news? If not, turn around and close the door behind you. It’s past your bed time, missy.”

            Flo was right. He is in a foul mood.

…

            Richie’s right of course in his belief that this wasn’t over. They’re taken out of school early a couple days later and Mikey’s look is thunderous at best when Ms. Sandy comes to their class and asks them to pack their things because their Aunt is waiting for them at the front office. There’s nothing Mikey can say or do though to change the fact that they have an appointment and they’re being driven there whether he likes it or not. Still it doesn’t stop his twin from glaring at and trying to convince Aunt Karen that this is unnecessary and probably costly. Especially as it’s a specialist they’ve been recommended to go see.

            “We’re _going_ Michael. Whether you like it or not. Now get in.” Aunt Karen mutters. “I don’t understand why you’re so against this, Michael, I really don’t.”

            “Of course _you_ wouldn’t.” Mikey slams the car door behind him and remains ominously quiet the rest of the way, leaving Richie to deal with the sudden nerves of going to see _someone_ and not knowing what the _testing_ will actually entail all alone. He tries to get lost in the passing scenery but he just can’t. He can’t focus and his mind is going a mile a second, maybe even millisecond, the thoughts are going _that_ fast ( _forget a minute, that was his norm on a fucking_ slow _day_ ).

            Which sucks cause these specialists, they’re not exactly around the corner. No, they’re miles and miles away and Richie is damp with sweat by the time they _finally_ pull into the parking lot. He can tell that Mikey mules over the idea of simply staying in the car by the way his twin tenses and grips at the car seat. However, something on Aunt Karen’s face must change his mind because there’s a huffy sigh and roll of the eyes before Mikey simply unbuckles himself and steps out of the car.

            Richie is right behind him, fighting with the impulse to grab at his twin’s hand. They’ve never actually held hands but he wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to the little bit of comfort right about now, regardless of what it would look like and regardless that they were _too old_ for that shit. He’s never cared about what was proper behavior or not but there’s still something that stops him from acting on the impulse.

            Mikey belatedly throws him a glance as they step into the overly air conditioned waiting room, and the scowl that’s been applying for permanent residency finally starts to recede, allowing room for an apologetic expression to show up instead. His footsteps slow down and he nudges into Richie briefly before sighing again. They make their way over to some large cushioned seats after Aunt Karen waves them to do so while she stays to talk to the front desk staff and fill out some forms.

            “It’ll be okay…I’m here with you, aren’t I?” Mikey mutters quietly.

            “Yeah…” Richie says, biting off the _for now_ that’s starting to build in his chest. He knows that the recommendation was for both Mikey and Richie to get tested. But there’s something about all of this that he can’t help wondering if it’s more just for him. Because he knows he’s fucked up. Mikey though? Not so much. And it’ll be so easy for everyone to see that once they realize that Mikey’s sleep is only fucked up because of _his_ recurring nightmares.

            They don’t have too much time to get comfortable or to play simple distraction games as Mikey was trying to get Richie to do. They’re called into another room where they’re introduced to a Dr. Evans and a Dr. Winterwell and two of their postdocs, Dr. Leigh and Dr. Marley.

            Richie tunes out most of the explanation of what’s going to take place today in favor of taking in the large office space. The way there’s a desk and a computer tucked away in one corner, leaving the rest of the room to have a sofa ( _comfortable_ ) and multiple chairs in the middle of the room and weirdly enough a drum set and other instruments in another corner. The drum set is nice though and professional looking unlike some of the other instruments that range from plastic to wooden to metallic depending. There’s also a bookshelf that’s filled with the odd textbook but has more toys of all sorts ( _think creepy soulless dolls and plastic figurines and wooden blocks and where the fuck are they?_ ) in every little nook and cranny. There’s also a doll house, large and in relative good condition although it’s definitely been used as he can see little broken and missing pieces here and there and where markers have been so kindly applied in little zig zag lines that are for the most part patternless. He’s also noticed what seems to be sand embedded in the carpet by his feet and is that fucking playdough too?

            He blinks and can’t bite off the curse in time when Mikey elbows him hard in the ribcage. “Mother fucking…what the hell, Mikey?!”

            “Richie…” Aunt Karen starts but Dr. Winterwell simply smiles, looking amused and patient.

            “Now, now, anything’s allowed here except violence. No censoring.” Mikey does not look amused or impressed but whatever thought he has in response stays locked away. Richie wonders sourly if the ban on violence includes elbowing people as he rubs the sore spot away. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s realized _why_ he cursed. Just noticed that he did.

            “Mrs. Wheeler if you could come with me…” One of the postdocs asks while the other beckons Mikey and…oh… shit… is he supposed to come too? Where are they going? What are they doing? Maybe it would have been good to at least pay a bit of attention to what they’d been discussing.

            “Mikey…?” Richie starts following him figuring someone would say _something_ if he wasn’t supposed to. His twin looks at him and reads the expression correctly. He’s had enough practices in their classes to know when Richie’s completely tuned out a lecture or two.

            “We’re going with Dr. Marley to fill out some questionnaires. We can stay together…” Mikey explains quickly and quietly. “After that, you’ll be meeting with Dr. Winterwell on your own while I meet with Dr. Evans for some sort of… interview. Aunt Karen’s going to meet with both of them after we finish up to discuss the next steps.” He looks tired already at the thought.

            “Oh…What’s she going to do now with…Dr. What’s his face?” Their own postdoc looks amused by the question and answers before Mikey.

            “Charlie is going to be giving her some questionnaires to fill out too.” She opens a door and ushers them in. There’s one square table with 4 chairs and two packets of paper that are already ready to go. There’s enough space between the packets that ensures no “cheating” can take place. If cheating is even possible with whatever they’re going to be asked to fill out. Dr. Marley sits across from them and starts to explain the questionnaires. “The first…” Her voice is a pleasant hum in the background as Richie starts to read what’s in front of him. “The Childhood Trauma Questionnaire” title is black and bolded and he blinks at the name before glancing at Mikey quickly.

            The lemon sucking expression is back on his twin’s face but it changes to one of resigned exasperation as Mikey simply picks up a pencil and starts to answer the items. Richie follows suit, heart hammering in his throat and ears. He doesn’t like this…

            It’s not overly long. But there’s another form following it titled “Strength and Difficulties Questionnaire”. Also not very long and it’s strange to be checking off “not true”, “somewhat true” or “certainly true” to statements that seem to jump from topic to topic. “Easily distracted, concentration wanders”? Easy enough to answer… “Many fears, easily scared”…what the hell?

            And then another form, the CBCL, follows that one, and Richie starts to go cross-eyed. How many of these fuckers do they have left? He would have preferred staying at school and get lectured then fill all this out. His annoyance builds as some items from each form overlaps. He’s starting to recognize a pattern though and has a feeling he’s not going to come out looking like a well adjusted happy go lucky teenager.

            And fuuuuuck….

…

            It turns out that the questionnaires and the “interview” had been a way to ease them into the “testing”. They’re back a handful of days after for more that includes something called the WISC-R that Richie is almost at once convinced that some masochist had developed simply to aggravate and torture children with. It’s supposed to measure his intelligence but he thinks it does more at measuring his patience and ability to stay on task. Yet Dr. Marley, or Rose as she continues to remind him to call her by, always gently refocuses him. She doesn’t ever say anything that reassures him he’s doing well but she is oddly comforting anyway. ( _Mikey is in another room this time with Charlie doing the same damned thing. His expression at the end of that particular session is priceless to Richie although definitely bordering on homicidal._ ) They’re not told how they did, simply scheduled for a next round for later that week.

            The next time they go, it’s also her that he ends up with. This time he has fun with it and there’s a little alarmed quality to her smile as he comes up with answer after answer for what he sees in weird ass inkblots that he’s shown. They barely get through the next test following the whole inkblots and end up going long because of how elaborate of stories ( _Voices included, bitches)_ he’s coming up with for every damn card he’s shown. Some are with people and vague backgrounds but the one card that he decides _oh hell with you and with this_ is when she shows him one that’s just white. And he’s supposed to take this seriously?

            He starts a ten-minute monologue about _nothing_ and is ready to make it longer as she furiously tries to keep up with him because she has to _write_ word for word everything he’s saying. And damn it, he’s going to make her work for it. She’s the one who finally makes him wrap it up and he can’t help but want to give Mikey a high five in victory as they walk back to the car after that particular session. It gets him a weirded out look at first but after an explanation is given, Mikey just chortles. Apparently, his twin had gone for the opposite approach and given very succinct and minimal answers. He’d observed Charlie writing a hasty _invalid_ in the corner of his pad of paper.

            The last day of testing leaves them in different offices again. Rose is with Mikey this time which makes Richie smirk until Charlie gives him a blank piece of paper and asks him to draw a house, a tree, and a person. The rest of the hour is spent discussing the picture and Charlie takes some notes here and there. His expression remains professionally blank the entire time giving Richie the creeps and he wishes that Rose had been the one to give him this last one…At least she’d been human.

            Still, it’s over now. Right?

…

            A week later finds Karen trying to not fidget on the couch in Dr. Winterwell’s office. Dr. Evans is sitting across from her on a chair and giving her a reassuring smile as Dr. Winterwell is puttering around his desk, grabbing a folder and his glasses that he precariously perches on the end of his nose. Their postdocs are notably absent but Karen thinks she remembers being told that the two would only be part of the testing.

            The boys are sitting still next to her, with Richie in a casual slump that makes her think of a cat relaxing in the sun and Michael sitting up straight, arms crossed against his chest in a defensive posture. She’d noticed how Michael had moved in such a way that it placed Richie between the two of them. She wasn’t sure whether it was to protect Richie or to put space between them. Most likely, both. He still hasn’t forgiven her for starting this whole process.

            “Ah, here it is…” Dr. Winterwell starts, tone of voice warm and she turns to focus on him and him alone. Karen had liked him immediately although she couldn’t put the why into words. Dr. Evans, she was less sure about for also unknown reasons. There was just _something…_ “So we know we’ve put you through a lot these past couple of weeks but we’re happy to say that it’s over.”

            Michael arches an eyebrow at that that clearly reads he’s not buying it and is waiting for the other shoe to drop.

            “We wanted to meet all together to review what came up and what we recommend moving forward. We know it can be stressful and so we wanted to provide a choice in how we go about today’s meeting. We can meet individually first and then all together or all together from the start and do check-ins at the end…” There’s more options about to be listed, she’s sure of it but Michael surprises her in cutting the man off.

            “It doesn’t matter what we choose, does it? You’re going to have to tell her anyway…”

            There’s a pause and Dr. Winterwell tilts his head as if pondering the question and how to answer it. Karen tries to focus on that versus the hurt at hearing him use the _her_ in such an angry and accusatory and resigned tone.

            “She is your guardian yes…but like we discussed in our very first meeting…”

            “Yeah, confidentiality and the limits of it…I remember.” Michael says quietly with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m just saying, I don’t see the point in splitting this meeting up. Not for the results anyway. That’s something you’d have to share with her.”

            The man isn’t flustered at all by the interaction and instead just takes it all seriously yet in a poised and gentle manner. He manages to get them moving forward again, somehow all of them agreeing that meeting together and doing solo check-ins at the end is the best option for everyone. Karen only wishes Ted had come with her once again but if wishes were horses…

            She takes the news of their diagnoses, PTSD for Michael, PTSD and ADHD, rule out for Richie with as much composure as she can. Michael seems perplexed and ready to question his own diagnosis but she doesn’t see how that plays out because he meets with Dr. Evans alone following the discussion on recommendations that Karen plans on following to a T. Richie has less of a visible reaction to his own diagnosis and seems relieved in a way when he’s offered to work with Dr. Winterwell in order to be taught ways to manage his symptoms and improve his sleep. There’s talk of medication too for the both of them but that needs to go through a different office and she knows that she’ll get that information in her own check-in following theirs.

            So she stays in the waiting area alone in her thoughts, feeling stunned. PTSD…Her boys… traumatized? Richie, she’s not as surprised by. With everything he’s been through… but Michael? How… when?

            Flashes of memories come to her mind unbidden. Michael coming home late at night and simply breaking down in her arms after finding out about Will. Michael late at night, another night, at the school, face so pale and shaking, surrounded by ambulances and strange men, and there had been so much blood, so much blood in the hallways… she remembers him saying that and nothing else.

            Another part of her wants to fight the diagnosis too. To point out how Michael had seemed to recover so quickly and Will after all had come home alive. Yet she can’t fight off the other memories. Michael’s belligerence, the dip in his academics, the bags under his eyes…

            She takes a deep breath in and lets it flow out slowly.

            This is all her fault.

 

Tbc...

 

A/N - I am in definite count down mode for IT Chapter 2 to come out which is somewhat funny as I am a /big/ scaredy cat when it comes to horror movies and tend to avoid them like the plague (psychological thrillers - count me in, out right horror? No thank you). The only reason I ever watched IT (2017) in the first place was because of Eddie's iconic scene of yelling at his mom about "gazebos"... I died laughing and was like well... this can't be /too/ scary right? But Chapter 2 seems like the scare/horror factor will be amped so we'll see how I fare. I've already asked friends to come see it with me. Hopefully their presence will be enough of a protective factor. lol. Anyone else excited to see part 2 of the IT movies? 

 


	22. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike makes an important decision...

Chapter 21

 

            Mike’s not sure whether he should or not. But the part of him that has been wanting to and waiting for the right moment is starting to get antsy. He’s scrambled off his bed to grab the box five times tonight already, only to shove it back after a moment or two of looking at the closed lid. He hasn’t even gotten to the point of opening the box and seeing all the copied newspaper articles that he’d collected so many months ago.

            He’d been in mid motion of shoving the box back under his bed again when Richie comes in and scares the holy shit out of him. Mike’s startle response is not the most helpful as he tries to sit up without pushing off hard enough from the floor to do so. He’s now half on, half off his bed with gravity clearly wanting him to tumble forward onto the ground. Falling and flailing his arms in front of him is all he can do and he hears Richie’s own startled laugh start to fill the air.

            “What the fuck, Mikey-baby!? You showing off your ass and your inability to fly? Because I could have told you without the show that your ass is just fine and that as a human, your flying skills suck…” The words are spoken aloud in between chortles of laughter and Mike stays where he is on the ground because, shit, that actually hurt a little. He’s lucky enough he supposes that he was able to protect his face and that only his hands and knees got the brunt of the fall. Richie nudges him where he is with a foot.

            “Fuck off, Rich.” Mike grits before finding the strength to shove himself back up and onto his bed. “You scared me, just storming in like that.” He grumbles.

            “Uh huh, you should have seen yourself.” And Richie proceeds to imitate his flailing and it’s truly not flattering.

            “Shut up!” He halfheartedly throws a pillow at his brother that his twin easily ducks, increasing his apparent hilarity at the situation. Mike simply has to wait it out and he shakes his head at Richie’s chuckling form. He watches his twin and he knows that even though there may never be right time, this definitely isn’t a good time.

            Richie looks way too content in the moment and he just doesn’t have it in him to break that mood. Especially not with how the past few weeks have been with all the school and testing and now sessions they’ve had with their shrinks.

            He knows that the sessions are supposed to help in the long run… but all he sees and experiences day to day is Richie’s nightmares increasing in frequency and severity despite the medications that they’ve both been prescribed to take.

            So no, he’s not ready to break Richie’s good mood.

            Another day can’t hurt.

After all, Mike’s waited this long…

…

            It’s only a couple of nights later that Richie catches Mikey in a similar position, ass in the air, head under the bed. This time though, Richie doesn’t seem to catch Mikey off guard and so the flailing doesn’t happen which is only sorta disappointing. Instead, his twin just sits back up in one smooth motion, hands cradling a shoebox that he plops down on his lap.

            “What you got there?” Richie asks as he lets himself fall back onto his own bed. Mikey’s quiet for a heartbeat or two and he seems hesitant, brown eyes looking from Richie’s face back to the box. “Ooh is it your secret stash of Playboys?”

            “What? Ew, no. Gross.”

            “Mikey-baby…”

            “Richie,” The tone is enough for Richie to stop in his tracks and he simply puts up his hands in clear defeat. Which is perfect in a way because instead of having to tease his twin further in hopes that the goading reveals the mystery, Mikey simply opens the box. The content of the box is a bit of a downer to be honest. It looks like it’s just full of newspaper clippings and a lot of other boring shit.

            It shouldn’t be a surprise but still with the way Mikey had reacted the last time Richie had caught him trying to get at the thing, he’d been expecting the contents to at least be _somewhat_ illicit and exciting.

            “Huh… dirty magazines would have been more fun.” He mutters before throwing his legs onto his mattress and laying back down fully. He punches his pillow to get it in just the right shape before resting his head on it and turning his focus to the ceiling. The comment is ignored and Richie hears the sound of papers being sorted.

            “Richie, can I show you something?” Mikey asks and Richie answers by turning over so he’s back to facing his twin. There’s a piece of paper in his twin’s hand that’s being offered to him. He’s not prepared for who he sees in the copied newspaper clipping and it has him sitting up and grabbing at the paper to get a closer look, heart hammering in his ears because it just can’t…it _can’t_ be. There’s a bunch of them and the picture is grainy at best but it… it is her. She just looks so young. “Do you recognize anyone on there?” The question is asked in a hushed voice.

            “Mikey, where the hell did you get this?”

            “Library.” Mikey shifts and is now sitting next to him. “So do you…? Recognize someone…”

            “Yeah…” Richie mutters, still unable to look away. “…It’s our mom.”

            Mikey stiffens next to him and is quiet for a bit before nodding to himself and gently asking, “Which one is she?”

            Richie can only point to her face still in shock that it’s there in grainy black and white print. He can’t move to look beyond that at the moment. So young and serious and alert looking. Alive. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel at seeing her like this. Mikey leans into him and taps a finger at the names listed just below the picture, forcing Richie to look away from his mother’s eyes.

            “Her name was Maggie right?”

            “Yeah…” He’s scanning the listed names. He sees a Maggie but not Tozier. He doesn’t recognize the name that’s listed behind his mother’s first name. “Is Manning her maiden name?” He asks because Mikey would know. Mikey has grown up with their grandparents as being part of every stage of his development and important life event. Richie had never even known he had any grandparents until coming here.

            The plan is for the introduction to happen after the school year is over. The Wheelers have it all planned out. Car trip and all. Mikey doesn’t seem super excited about the trip but he’s also kept his mouth shut about it. Richie’s not sure how to feel about that either though.

            “No…” Mikey starts quietly. “It’s Williams.” Richie words the name soundlessly, just testing it out. Maggie Williams. It feels weird on his tongue. Just like Maggie Manning.

            “What…what are you doing with this? What was she doing?” Because now that his eyes have moved on from her face he’s noticing all the other little details he’d ignored before. Like the polka dotted hospital gowns that all of the women and two men are wearing. Like the man, just slightly to the right and in front of the group, that’s wearing what looks to be a white lab coat and some sort of black leather bound notebook that he’s holding close to his chest. There’s another man in the back also with a white lab coat. It’s like the man in the front and the man in the back are herding the six others. What the fuck is all of this about? There’s nothing left of the actual article that must have surrounded the image to clue him in either. Which, in his shock of seeing his mom’s face, is only mildly irritating.

            “I was researching something in the library about events that occurred and this picture was in an article. There was just something about her face that seemed so familiar, I ended up cutting it out.”

            On any other day, on any other moment, maybe Richie would have had the where withal to call bullshit on the obvious lie. But Richie can barely even hear Mikey’s explanation. He still can’t get over the fact that there’s a picture. A picture he can now own and keep of his mother’s face when he’d thought he’d lost it all and would have to keep her memory alive with just nightmares and memories of another life. So he lets it go, falling into silence, mesmerized by the grainy image. When Mikey finally shifts away and back into his own bed to put the box away under his bed, that’s what cues Richie back into the here and now.

            “Can I keep this?” He asks and Mikey just nods.

            “Yeah, we can frame it if you want…” But he accepts the shake of Richie’s head and doesn’t say anything when Richie folds the picture carefully and tucks it in his wallet. They end the night in silence and Richie finds himself crawling into Mikey’s bed when it’s finally time to shut off the light because he really needs a physical reminder right now that he’s truly here and not anywhere else. They’re way beyond needing the excuse of a nightmare anyway to accept comfort from one another.

…

            Mike doesn’t expect any sleep that night and so he’s not surprised when sleep doesn’t come to him. He knows that maybe he’d sleep a little if he’d taken his medication but…he wants his head clear to think things through. Since Richie identified their mother in the picture, he’s felt his heart beat accelerate and it hasn’t calmed down since. Again, his brain is all conflicted - thoughts screaming at him with different ways to deal with the confirmation.

            Their mother was part of the MK Ultra studies on psionic abilities. Right along with Terry Ives. He can’t deny that connection any more like he had before. It still doesn’t change the fact that Mike and Richie are as normal as they can be. And nothing that Richie has shared, which granted is really small snippets here and there and more about the Losers than anything else, has led Mike to believe that Maggie had any powers herself. Not like Terry Ives.

            And nothing had happened since Richie had arrived on their doorstep. No new people randomly inserting themselves into their lives. At least not in Hawkins. And Dr. Winterwell and Dr. Evans, well, yeah they were new but they seemed authentic. Everything that they had shared had been helping so far. They couldn’t be part of all of this. Mike had checked. He’d done his research after their first meeting with them and he’d come up empty. None of them had turned up in his search for Hawkins lab, for MK Ultra, or even other studies dealing with psionic abilities. Part of him had wondered if he should ask Hopper to do a more in depth background check but…

            Mike takes a breath in and slowly, slowly releases it.

            The only thing that is clear in his mind right now is that he wants to tell Richie the truth. The truth about El, about Will, and the Upside down. He doesn’t want this to be a secret between them. Because as much as Richie wasn’t there for when it was all going down, it’s weirdly part of his story too. Historically speaking anyway. Maybe Maggie’s part in the original study that started all of this would explain why she’d turned to alcohol. Maybe knowing this would start to lift some of the guilt and the darkness that Richie carries in him for not being the child that could save his mom. Because all of this shit, it’s not his fault. That’s the only other truth that Mike knows. And Richie deserves to know that much at least.

            It’s decided then, he’ll talk to the rest of the Party about telling Richie. And then even that thought is scattered because the nightmares are back and he can tell with the way Richie’s previously relaxed form is tensing. Mike sits up and flicks the light on, hand carefully going to grab Richie’s shoulder.

            “Richie, it’s okay… you’re here…you’re not alone…”

 

Tbc...

 

A/N - I'm very excited to see IT Chapter 2 but I haven't had a chance yet. The earliest I'll get to go to see it is next weekend... o.o'... Takes a deep breath and does her best to not go looking for spoilers. 


	23. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mike consults with the Party about Richie...

Chapter 22

 

            Mike waits until the door closes behind Richie to bring the topic up with the rest of the Party members. The words spill out of him quickly. “I want to tell Richie the truth.” It makes Dustin sit up, his hands fumbling with his baseball cap that he’d been flipping for the past handful of minutes. It gets bumped in the air two times as the curly haired teen tries to catch it and misses only sending it further away from him until Max catches it in one smooth and deft motion. She hands it back to Dustin with a little smug look before going back to looking at Mike.

            “Mike, I don’t know…” Lucas starts, tone careful. None of them have to ask what truth Mike wants to tell his twin. If they’re honest about it, they’ve been wondering when the topic would come up ever since they’d seen Mike and Richie get closer and closer day by day. If they were being honest about it all, they’d also tell Mike that they’ve been debating what to do when Mike did bring it up. Because it had always been a when and not an if whenever they’d debated the topic hotly. The reason they don’t say that they’ve been discussing it the four of them whenever Mike and Richie aren’t with them is because they hadn’t come up with a solution and each time, the group had ended the conversation because they’d gotten too annoyed with the back and forth. Lucas can already see Mike’s frown growing and braces himself for a counter attack.

            “Why tell him when there’s no need _to_ tell him.” Dustin cuts in while shoving his baseball cap back on his head with a bit more force than necessary. The move ends up flattening his front curls to his forehead and causing the longer pieces to hide his eyes. He needs a haircut or so he’s been told. He’s been ignoring the unasked feedback but in this moment, he wonders if his friends aren’t entirely wrong in their opinion. He wrinkles his nose before impatiently brushing the annoying strands out of the way. “Come on Mike, it’s over. It’s all over. What would be the point of telling him about any of it?!”

            Max’s smile thins at what she hears Dustin saying because it’s bullshit. Or well, part bullshit in that she knows it’s not really why Dustin doesn’t want to tell Richie. So much for their golden rule of _Friends Don’t Lie_.

            “The gate is closed, yeah.” Mike nods as if conceding the point although like hell it’s truly over. He doesn’t trust the peace but he’s also not ready to bring up why he’s so suspicious of it just yet. He knows it would make this battle easier but at the same time, there’s still a part of him that’s wary of sharing what he thinks he knows. He’s also not nearly as oblivious as the others think he is regarding Dustin’s views of Richie. Dustin’s voice is a recognizable force and the boy isn’t always aware of how loudly it can carry. Meaning that Mike had overheard more than once Dustin freaking out about his twin despite the fact that his friend hadn’t shared any of his concerns directly with him. It should have hurt. It maybe should have even frustrated him. If anything though, it just brought him some relief from the guilt he’d been carrying about not being completely truthful with his friends. If they were all keeping something from him… “But, how am I supposed to explain El?”

            “You wait until Hopper introduces her to the rest of Hawkins?” Dustin mutters, actively avoiding Max’s piercing look. “I thought that was the plan.” Mike shakes his head then, both hands weaving into his darker locks and tugging briefly there. The slight pain keeping him focused on the here and now and not the building frustration that he even has to ask for the right to tell his brother about any of it.

            “That would be fine if we weren’t living together but we are. And we’re always together. It’s hard finding ways to get alone time to call El to check on her on the supercomm. I don’t even know what I’ll do or say when I stop being grounded and try to go visit her in person.” Mike rushes to continue. “Plus, how the hell do I explain how… well…”

            “How the two of you are in luuuurve?” There shouldn’t be an r in love. It makes no sense to any of the party members but Dustin manages to get a rolling r in most words when he wants to show off his pearly whites and his ability to purr. It’s also the worst timing in the world to try and tease Mike about his relationship with El. But Mike’s face only expresses his disgust at the sound and he can’t dispute what Dustin is actually saying because it’s actually his original point. He and El will never be able to fake a different connection then the one they actually have.

            “I’m for telling him.” Max slaps both of her hands on top of the A/V table with the latest radio gadget resting there ( _She’d forgotten the name in self-preservation and as a handy way to get her Stalker all riled up which is seriously becoming one of her all time favorite pastimes._ ). Mike looks at her with a bit of surprise. “What?” She asks a smidgen defensive. “I _know_ what it’s like trying to befriend all of you. It _sucks_ being on the outside and not knowing. You’re not all that smooth and more often then not, you all make it so obvious that something _is_ going on and that you’re keeping everyone else in the dark.”

            Dustin waves his hands up in the air, eyes going to look at the ceiling as if God was there to act as his witness at the stupidity of his friends. “There _was_ something going on back then. Now there isn’t. It makes a _huge_ difference.”

            “And Wheeler has a point that no matter that there’s nothing going on, his connection to El isn’t going to be easy to explain away.” Max continues as if Dustin hadn’t said anything of importance. “They still have months to go before El is even introduced to everyone in Hawkins. That’s months of all of us having to help his nerdy ass come up with realistic lies whenever he tries to go visit her!” She argues back, arms coming to cross against her chest. “Richie’s smart and observant. He’s not gonna buy some half assed bull.”

            Mike is a bit speechless listening to her. He’d been ready for Dustin’s reticence. Honestly, he’d been ready for all of them except maybe Will to be against letting Richie know and had prepared what he was going to say. He had not expected Max to be his ally here. But she is. She’s sitting straight and glaring right back at Dustin just waiting for him to say something else.

            Lucas clears his throat then and all eyes go on him. He seems a bit nervous, fingers drumming on the top of his knees. “I say we vote on this. If the majority is in favor, than we tell him.”

            “What?!” Dustin squawks.

            “You did say that the Party is a democracy, Dustin.” Will points out quietly, tone trying to be placating which doesn’t really work because Dustin already knows where Will stands on the issue.

            “Yeah but this isn’t just a Party matter! It impacts a lot more than just _us_. It’s bigger than the Party. There’s Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Ms. Byers, and Hopper to think about too.”

            “Fine, so we’ll ask them too.” Will shrugs as if it’ll be no big deal bringing this up to them. “To be honest, mom and Jonathan have already asked if we’d told Richie. They seemed surprised to find out that we hadn’t…”

            “They did?” Mike asks, tilting his head towards his oldest friend and Will responds with a slight nod and smile. “Huh…cool.” He knows that they have limited time to wrap this up. After all, Richie can come back at any minute from the bathroom and Mike is more than fine putting the topic to a vote. He’s feeling better about the odds than he was at the very beginning. “I’m fine putting this to a vote…”

            “I’m not.” Dustin grouses and there’s just something about the petulant tone that ignites something in Mike finally that he can’t swallow down.

            “Why? Why are you so _against_ him knowing?” Mike pushes even though he knows. He just wants Dustin to finally admit it and to stop dancing around it.

            “Mike,” Will’s hand comes to grab his forearm because he stood up without realizing it.

            “No! This is bullshit! We’re a democracy when it suits Dustin. We’re all lone rangers when it suits Lucas to share _everything_ without even asking any of us what we thought so he can win the girl.” He sees from the corner of his eye Lucas wincing but it doesn’t stop him from continuing. “And you’re such a liar, going on about how it’s all over when you don’t even believe it to be over!” He’s pointing at Dustin whose eyes are getting larger by the second. “You should learn to be quieter if you’re going to spout so many damned conspiracy theories about my brother. Who you should know, didn’t fucking ask to be placed here in Hawkins with us. Right here, right now. His mother fucking killed herself and now he’s stuck here. That’s what really happened, Dustin. Not whatever evil twin theory you’re on this week!” And then because he can’t quite calm down and he doesn’t want to say more, he just twists his arm free from Will’s hold and leaves the A/V room, slamming the door behind him.

            He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t. He hadn’t even been angry about Dustin’s wild and crazy theories. Or so he’d thought. But the longer he’d stayed in that room listening to Dustin, the more angry he’d become. None of them knew. None of them fucking knew what it was like. They didn’t have to deal with the nightmares. They didn’t have to deal with the knowledge that he’d be the one lying if he didn’t tell Richie the truth. He’d be the one lying, day in and day out. And he didn’t think he could do it. Not with the way he was getting to know Richie…

            It’s too stifling to be in there with them and he doesn’t want to see their shocked expressions. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle it if he stays. So he stalks away from the room and meets Richie on his way back. His twin takes one look at him and just raises his hands in a placating motion.

            “Yowza, what the hell happened in the span of what,” Richie glances down at his watch. “…the five minutes I was gone? You look ready to fucking kill someone.”

            “Dustin’s being an ass. Let’s just go home.”

            “Oookay…” Richie nods and simply turns to follow Mike to their bikes.

…

            There’s a kind of silence that doesn’t feel good and it’s filling the space that Mike just left. It feels heavy and sickening and just… loud. It also feels like it’s impossible to break. That anything said will just heighten its presence and so the four that remain behind just look at one another, almost afraid to move and even breath.

            Will looks so guilty and upset when he really shouldn’t be. He’s done nothing wrong. And he’s really dealt with enough crap in all the time that she’s known him and even before then to have to deal with this shit. It’s these thoughts that spur Max to break the silence after it’s uncomfortable presence has weighed down on all of them for several long ass minutes.

            “Way to go, nerd.” She mutters, kicking at Dustin’s chair leg. “Would it have been so bad to leave it at a vote?”

            “Hey, I didn’t know, okay?”

            “None of us did,” Will steps in before another fight can break out. “But now we know.” He seems to be struggling to say whatever else is on his mind and Lucas sighs and takes over.

            “Let’s let Mike cool off for now…maybe talk to the others about telling Richie and get a sense of what they think.” He hesitates and then blows out his cheeks. “I think it’s our only option now…” Dustin looks at his friend with an odd little expression but nods finally.

            “I can talk to Steve.”

            “And I can talk to Jonathan and mom…” Will says quietly.

            “I guess that leaves Hopper and Nancy to us.” Lucas mutters, glancing at Max to see if she’s okay that they’ll be doing this the team approach. She actually prefers it that way and nods quickly.

            They don’t discuss more details, just get up and leave the A/V room as one unit and separating at the bike rack. She knows that all of them are going to start asking the various people now versus waiting because _blood_ was spilt and now the entire Party needed to repair the problem.

            She just wished they’d fucking avoided it in the first place.

 

Tbc... 

 


	24. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adolescence is both hard and sucks... enough said.

Chapter 23

 

            The next day, Richie is half paying attention, half tapping out a song he’s hell bent on learning when it happens. Mikey is sitting by his side, studiously taking notes when suddenly he just stops. His face gets eerily pale, brows wrinkling in what looks like pain as he sits up very straight. It’s how he sits up abruptly and the way his pencil clatters noisily to the ground that gets Richie’s attention.

            He doesn’t understand what’s happening but suddenly Mikey’s gone, saying something about needing the nurse. He stands up to follow but the teacher tells him to sit down and that his brother can get to the nurse by himself, voice flustered by the way Mikey has just flown right past her and out the door without even slowing down to see if he had gotten her permission.

            He sits but only because he knows that Mikey and him are still on thin ice when it comes to the school administrators. The rest of the Party are looking just as bewildered as he feels and that’s really not doing anything to calm his nerves.

            It really doesn’t help when the bell rings and everyone starts to pack up to head to the next class that Mikey’s still not back to grab his things. Richie starts to put it all together, combining their stuff and thanking Will when the other boy comes to help him.

            What the hell is going on now?

…

            El had been out of sorts for the past week. She felt irritable one moment and sad the next. Lonely and disconnected despite having more contact with her friends than she’d ever had before.

            They just seemed to be changing so quickly nowadays while she felt like she was falling further and further behind, stuck in the cabin with only books and the old television set as her window to the outside world. It didn’t help that Mike had gotten grounded for a month at first then back down to a couple of weeks; his supercomm taken away from him until his mother had deemed him “punished enough” as Hopper had explained off hand with a shrug. Those couple of days had brought her right back to the 353 days – where she could see him, she could hear him but he couldn’t respond and didn’t always even know that she was visiting him.

            It was only _very_ recently that reaching out to him in the Void had shifted. Neither of them knew what was the cause for the change but suddenly he could sense the Void in that he could see the inky blackness, the wet floor, with barely anything else in the dark environment except the two of them and sometimes, barely visible the outlines of whatever furniture he was sitting on when she reached for him.

            He could sense her.

            It wasn’t always reliable though and more often then not, it was still just her being able to observe him without him even knowing that she was there.

            She’d felt horrible and lonely and even a little jealous at the way everyone else got to interact with him but her. At least the Party could see him at school even if they couldn’t hang out with him on weekends. And all of them had met Richie and were weaving him into their lives as much as Mike was. Yes, the letters had helped but it just wasn’t the same. Even after the grounding had ended early ( _and thank god it had because one week had been barely tolerable. She wasn’t sure how she could have made it through an entire month of no contact as originally planned_ ), Mike hadn’t gotten a chance to come see her in person. He’d explained with a tone that was weary, exasperated, and apologetic that between school, doctor visits, and Richie, it was hard to figure out a day and time that he could come over without raising any suspicion. Especially with Richie not knowing anything about well… anything.

            _Soon though_ …

            How she hated the word.

            And she missed him. More than any of the other Party members. She missed _him._ Talking to him on the supercomm, visiting him in the Void, reading his letters, it just wasn’t enough anymore. She didn’t think it had ever truly been enough.

            It’s what she thought was behind how she was feeling. Having a taste of being able to be with Mike only to have it taken away from her again. Of course, she’d felt off. It made sense to her even though she didn’t like it very much.

            Yet today when she wakes up, late with Hopper already gone to work, there is something else there too. Something different. She is physically uncomfortable. It feels like a heaviness, a pressure deep in her belly that can’t be massaged away. It makes her curl up in her bed and stay there for far longer than is her norm.

            She isn’t hungry anyways and the thought of food leaves her feeling slightly nauseated. So she stays where she is, wrapping the blankets around herself tighter with just the slightest of mental nudges when her lack of movement makes her feel cold. Normally that kind of use of her powers is nothing for her. It doesn’t even lead to a nosebleed anymore but this time, she regrets it almost instantly.

            She closes her eyes as she feels the nausea peak and feels almost blindingly lightheaded. The telltale wet warmth of blood spilling from her nose coming almost a moment later. It forces her to sit up slowly, fingers coming to inspect her nose. They come back bright red and she stares at them for a bit, blinking when the sight doesn’t change because it simply doesn’t make any sense to her.

            The heaviness in her belly changes then. It’s a strange mix of sharp pain followed by duller pain, constantly switching between the two of them. Back and forth, back and forth like waves crashing into land. And it takes a bit before she can gather her strength to make it up and onto her legs in order to force herself to walk into the bathroom.

            Was it something she’d eaten yesterday? She can’t tell if she’s constipated or…

            She almost hopes that’s the answer and that once whatever it is leaves her system she’ll feel like herself again. She isn’t at all expecting to see the blood that starts seeping out when she squats down onto the toilet. And that’s when she panics because something is more than a little off, more than a little wrong. She is bleeding from inside out and she can’t get it to stop!

            In her panic, her mind automatically reaches out to Mike in the Void, pulling him to her all the while crying and screaming for help. She’s dying. She must be for her to be bleeding the way she is.

…

            Mike arrived at the cabin, sweating and panicking. He’d thrown himself off his bike in order to not set off the trip wire and continued the trail to the cabin at a run, barely able to catch his breath but scared to death that there was simply no time to breathe. El was in trouble. El was scared and in pain and that’s all he knew.

            This was so unlike all the other times that he’d been pulled into the Void by her. Instead of her presence wrapping itself around him slowly, gently before feeling the slightest of tugs in the back of his mind and seeing as the world shifted from real to the Void, he’d just been snapped from his classroom into the inky blackness. There hadn’t been a warning. Just one moment, he’d been in class taking notes on the happenings of American History in 1776 and the next he’d been in the Void. She’d been crying and screaming his name and utterly inconsolable, all the while staying curled in on herself.

            He hadn’t even understood what she’d been trying to tell him and it had taken everything he had to pull away from her and the Void, promising her that he was coming. He was coming and to just fucking hold on. She had to hold on until he got there.

            The cabin’s surrounding is empty and quiet. There are no cars, no people, not even a trace that anyone had really come through this way besides the usual suspects. And they always made sure to make it look like it was a deer trail…

            The lack of anything wrong makes him wonder if maybe coming here had been wrong. Because oh god, what if she’d already been taken and that’s what she’d been trying to tell him? Oh shit, oh shit… El…

            He doesn’t know how to get into the Void by himself which no shit, he doesn’t have her powers. He doesn’t have _any_ powers. He needs her and what if he’d made the biggest mistake in pulling away in that moment without taking the time to understand what the hell was even going on?

            He loses his head just a bit as he slams himself into the door; not even attempting to knock out the special code so convinced that he’ll find the place empty. He’s bounced off the hard and unforgiving wooden surface because it actually _is_ still locked. He can’t help but curse and rub at his arm momentarily stunned by the physical pain.

            It’s most likely a good thing because it gives El time to unlock the door and he can hear it as it happens. The door even swings open for him and that’s good, that’s real good because he doesn’t think he could have broken through it no matter how many times he throws himself at it. A quick scan of the cabin shows that it’s the same as usual, with no one present besides El and nothing looks out of place.

            “El…?” She’s in the bathroom, still curled up on the floor, crying. The way she says his name is heartbreaking and it’s only a couple of steps before he’s by her side, hands on her shoulders trying to get her to sit up and look at him. “El, it’s me. I’m here… El, what’s wrong?” She’s shaking her head but allows herself to be pulled up and into his arms. “What is it? Are you hurt? El, please.”

            “Mike…” Her fingers are holding on tightly to his shirt and he can feel her shaking with the force of her sobs. “…wrong…” The rest of the words are muffled and he doesn’t quite catch all of them but he does hear _blood_ and _bleeding_ and _sick_ getting repeated.

            “Where… where are you hurt? El, if you’re bleeding we need to stop the bleeding…” He’s pushing her just enough away from his chest so that he can really look her over. He hadn’t noticed blood when coming in but, he’d been in such a panic, he’s not sure what he’s all missed in his rush to get to her.

            She takes a shuddering breath before pointing down and between her legs and Mike follows the motion before sort of freezing as it starts to dawn on him exactly what is going on.

            “You’re hurt...?” He starts and then trails off because of where she’s pointing to. “El…” He tries again, knowing his voice has gone weird and his face is probably turning beet red. “…did you hurt yourself? Or… like, uhm… did it just… like start bleeding?” She looks so scared and so miserable still that it’s easy _enough_ to swallow down the embarrassment and sheer mortification of this moment. Well, maybe not easy. But her needs clearly outweigh his petty embarrassment.

            He watches as she shakes her head to the first question before slowly nodding at his second question. She’s still crying, but the tears are silent now as they continue to fall down her cheeks. She seems to be bringing her breathing under control and he wonders vaguely if she hears in the back of her head Hopper’s voice telling her to breathe in and out. Because that’s definitely what he has started to hear in his head every time he realizes he’s starting to lose it even a little. And maybe that’s why it’s coming to him even now. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Oh, okay. Okay… well…uhm…” He pulls her back in for a longer and slightly harder hug. “Wow, okay.” And maybe that’s not the best way to start but his mind is reeling with the turn of events.

            Mike had been preparing for one scenario and what he’s finding himself in is really not…well. It’s not anything he was expecting or prepared to tackle.

            “Wow?!” El’s voice is back to being muffled because she’s literally pressed her face into his shoulder. Still, he can hear how it sounds strangled, upset, and clearly not pleased by the descriptor. He winces and proceeds to anxiously ramble out an explanation.

            “No, not wow. Just… sorry… I wasn’t… Urgh, okay. El, you’re fine. I promise. You’re not sick.”

            “Not sick?” She looks up at him, hopeful but unsure. “Why then…?”

            “The bleeding?” He doesn’t actually need her nod as confirmation but gets it anyway. “Yeah, has Hopper or like Ms. Byers or anyone really ever talked to you about puberty or getting your period?” He hates the way his voice starts to raise and breaks while he rushes out the question. She doesn’t seem to notice or care, eyes intently watching him as she listens hard. El shakes her head no and Mike sighs a little at the answer although he’s not entirely surprised either based on their current predicament. “Well, okay…I can try and explain as best as I can, okay? But trust me… you’re okay. This is normal.”

            He reaches with one hand to wipe her cheeks dry before bringing their foreheads to rest gently against the other, hoping that the move will be as soothing to her as it is to him. He needs to take a quick moment to ground himself and figure out how he can explain all of _this_ without it making it scarier or more confusing.

            “It hurts though and I don’t feel good…” She says quietly, her eyes having closed at the touch and the proximity. “Is that…normal too?” Mike makes a face at hearing that and wishes that it didn’t hurt. The little that he does know is from pieces of conversations he’s ( _unfortunately, because he truly never wanted to know_ ) overheard between Nancy and Aunt Karen.

            “Where does it hurt?” He asks quietly and she shows him, by pressing her one hand low on her belly. It confirms in his mind his initial conclusion and allows him to say, “I think so. It can…” He sighs again, nudging his nose gently into hers. “I think… I think heat can help lessen the pain.” He moves away and almost regrets doing so at the little noise that leaves her. “Hey,” He nudges back into her briefly. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I was going to move us though… I’m thinking the couch may be comfier and also, do you know if Hopper has a hot water bottle?” The confused expression that greets him is answer enough and he shrugs. “Well, I’ll figure something out.” He hesitates briefly before rocking back on the heels of his feet. “You okay to get up?” She seems to think about it before nodding and allowing him to pull her up as he goes to stand. “Do… maybe…I…you…” The only reason he doesn’t smack himself in the face in that very moment for being a complete and utter _wastoid_ is because she’s still holding onto both of his hands.

            “Mike.”

            “Yeah…?”

            “It’s okay. Right?”

            “Right.” He gives her a little crooked smile. “It is… I was just wondering… maybe… maybe you’d feel more comfortable changing? And while you do that, I’ll search for something to use as a hot water bottle and also your encyclopedia.”

            “Change…?” She tilts her head and looks at him in question, her eyes are still overly bright with unshed tears.

            “Oh you know…” He sighs and scratches the back of his head. “… I just thought, with the blood and Nancy always said that wearing loose clothes… like sweat pants and a baggy shirt, that helps too.”

            “Oh. Okay.” She nods slowly while still clearly confused but trusting him when he was saying she was okay, that this is all okay and normal. She hesitates before letting him go and turning away. He takes in another little breath and has to remind himself of what he needs to find.

            Hot water bottle.

            Encyclopedia.

            Pain killers.

            He knows that Nancy has other “supplies” that she buys during this time but he doesn’t know what and has a sinking feeling it’s not going to be explained in the Encyclopedia.

            He finds the heavy book first, grabbing the M-P volume from the shelf and blindly throws it onto the couch ( _and oh god is he thankful that Hopper has that one because a quick glance quickly reveals that the man doesn’t have the entire set and that would have been awful if he’d had to just explain all of_ this _free style. He can’t even remember his own “Talk” in all it’s_ glorious _details due to how embarrassed he’d been at the time, what a mess. And even if he could remember his, it didn’t include_ this _!)_.

            He then moves to looking through every nook and cranny and cupboards too for where a hot water bottle could be stashed, still holding on to the hope that Hopper owns one. He eventually is successful, finding one being used to stabilize some little table in a lost corner of the cabin. It’s all dusty and covered in spider webs and it takes some maneuvering on his end to free it without causing all of what’s on the little table to fall onto the ground. His mind is still actively moving forward at a neck breaking pace trying to think through what he needs to do, what he can do, and how to explain all of this as he goes through the motions of cleaning the thing. Or at least, making it passably usable.

            It’s when he’s filling the hot water bottle that it comes to him.

            “Hey El?!” He calls out to her from the kitchen.

            “Yes Mike?” He startles at finding that she’s changed and hovering right next to him. Probably has been watching him for a bit.

            “…” He finds that she’s followed his instructions to a T as he takes her in. Her Pajamas having been changed out for a long button down flannel shirt that has to be Hopper’s with the way it seems to swallow her whole. The long sleeves go well beyond her hands but she’s rolled them up so that they’re ending just slightly above the tips of her fingers.

            The sweatpants though… they pull at his memory before he realizes that they must be his from when he’d stayed overnight. Before Richie. How she’s not tripping over them… He can’t even see her feet. He shakes his head mostly to try and clear his head. He doesn’t have the head space to analyze and make sense of the feelings that are tightening his chest and warming him from the inside out at the thought of her wearing his clothes. It’s also a bit ridiculous that it’s impacting him at all because she’s worn his clothes before. She’d had to when they’d first met and at that time it hadn’t done anything to him back then.

            He goes back to paying attention to what he’s actually doing when he feels the water he’s been meticulously filling the hot water bottle with spill all over his fingers. “Uhm… Do you have your supercomm?” She nods, clearly perplexed by the question. “Can you call Dustin? He always has his on him, even at school.”

            “Okay…”

            “Thanks. I’ll meet you on the couch when I’m done.” He gives her another smile and turns his attention back to the hot water bottle to close it and then pop it in the microwave. He guesses at how long it needs to go in and nearly burns his fingers a couple minutes later when he takes it out. He hisses at it but wraps a quick dishtowel around it and hopes that the warmth this thing will bring actually does help her with the pain.

            El is on the couch, all curled up with a blanket wrapped around her, the supercomm silent in her hands. She’s so pale right now and that worries him. When she sees him approaching, she sits back up to give him room. He sits down carefully, not wanting to jostle her.

            “Here…this should help. Oh and I forgot the aspirin…” He goes to stand but she stops him with a hand.

            “No. No pills.”

            “But it’ll help with the pain…” At her shake of the head and continued tug on his arm, he settles back into the couch. They stare at each other for a moment before she moves and curls up against his side, carefully taking the hot water bottle from him and giving him the supercomm in exchange. “I think, if you hold it to yourself…” He watches as she presses it to her belly and trails off. “… yeah like that…it should help.” He keeps the _I hope_ to himself.

            Mike then busies himself with making sure the supercomm is on the right channel, feeling a brief pang of warmth at finding that it was on the one he usually keeps to talk to her and her alone. He finds himself tightening his hold around her shoulders briefly, before turning the supercomm on the channel Dustin typically is on. He knows that she hasn’t made the call herself at the lack of having heard anything while he’d still been busy in the kitchen. It’s probably for the best to be honest, as he hadn’t exactly explained why they needed to call Dustin.

            “Dustin? Over.” There’s a crackle and hissing noise before Dustin’s voice sounds out loud and clear.

            “Mike? What the hell dude? Where are you? What happened? You just shot out of class like a bat out of hell! Richie’s got your stuff and we’re all waiting for you in the cafeteria because you were clearly NOT in the nurse’s office. You also totally missed a tubular Math class. ” There’s a pause as Dustin takes a breath and Mike takes the opportunity to jump in.

            “Dustin, I’ll explain later. Right now I need to talk to Max and Max only. It’s about the Mage. She should go into the A/V clubroom…okay? Do you copy? Over.”

            “Shit. Fine. But this better be a good one. Over and out.” There’s silence for a handful of minutes that feels overly long. It makes Mike suddenly nervous that Max is going to refuse the request because of how he’d left things off with the entire group yesterday or that the others are going to demand explanations but thankfully, Max’s voice suddenly breaks through and its clear from the lack of background noise that she is indeed alone and in the A/V room.

            “Wheeler?! What’s this about the Mage?”

…

            El is settling in where she is, taking comfort in Mike’s warmth and listening as he talks to Max. Max seems flustered but understanding and quickly stops Mike’s embarrassed explanation with a “Say no more, Wheeler. I know what she needs. I’ll get the goods and come over as soon as I can. It’s okay if Stalker shows me the way?”

            “Yeah and thank you, Max. I mean it. I’ll… tell me what I owe you, okay? I’ll cover the cost. And… can you let Richie know that I’ll meet him at school before A/V club ends? Over.” El is only partly following the conversation. It’s reassuring that Max seems to understand though. It confirms what Mike had been saying, not that she hadn’t believed him it was just… she felt so miserable. But this is… apparently normal and not an indication of hurt or illness. She moves so that she’s closer to him still, lacing her fingers with the hand that is loosely draped over her shoulders and bringing it closer to her chest.

            “You’re a good guy Wheeler. Tell the Mage to hang in there and we’ll make sure that Richie is taken care of. Don’t you worry.” El hadn’t thought that Mike’s face could get redder but it has at the offhanded compliment, making it harder to see all the freckles that are scattered on his nose and high cheekbones.

            The static ends and Mike lets the supercomm fall to the side, only muttering briefly about teaching Max the protocol for walkie-talkie communications. It’s endearing and so very _him._ She can’t help but smile just a little.

            All of this feels weirdly unreal yet so very real at the same time and she can’t help but relax further into him. She’d missed him so much and now he’s here. Finally.

            “Well…that’s taken care of.” He says to himself and it’s a bit strange and soothing all at once at hearing his voice and feeling the vibrations of the sound running through his chest and into her cheek.

            “Mike?”

            “Hm?”

            “Explain?” His chest expands under her cheek as he takes a deep breath in and out.

            “Yeah, of course.” There’s a bit of shuffling but they settle back together once he’s gotten his hands on the Encyclopedia that she’d shoved to the side when she’d first gone to curl up on the couch’s surface.

            He’s opening it to the letter P, his free hand running down the entries until he gets to the right one. Puberty.

            Mike moves to hold the book in such a way that she can read right along with him. “I figure, we can use this as a base…k?” She nods again, shifting just a bit to get more comfortable. The warmth from the hot water bottle is helping a bit but the waves of pain keep coming in and out, distracting and draining.

            Still, she listens to him read to her, trying to follow along with the entry and mouthing the longer and more complex words out loud in a hushed whisper. From time to time he seems to tense, words coming out in a rushed stutter and when she glances at him during those times, she sees that the red in his cheeks is still very present and that its spreading down his neck.

            “Mike?”

            “Yeah…?” He’s still looking at the page, carefully avoiding her eyes for the moment.

            “Pu-ber-ty… that is what’s causing… this?” She scans the page and taps with her finger at the word he had just ended on. “Mens-tration?”

            “Menstr-u-ation,” He corrects her gently while nodding. “Yeah. It is.”

            “And… it’s different for you?”

            “Yeah, definitely yes. No menstruation –period – whatever you want to call it.” She frowns at that.

            “Why?”

            “Oh…” The way he says it is half groan. “I… just… I don’t know. It’s just different for guys than it is for girls. Something about the hormones, like guys get flooded with testosterone and girls with estrogen? I think…?” She ponders that for a bit before moving onto her next question.

            “And it will go away?”

            “What will?”

            “The bleeding? Mens-tru-a-tion?” She draws the word out and feels slightly proud at seeing him nod. She had said it correctly this time.

            “…well…” He flips the pages and finds a different entry and scans it before saying, “… it lasts for a couple of days, like 5-7 depending on the person, but it’s like a cycle. See…” His long finger taps at the entry. “So it’ll happen about every 28 to 30 days.” She feels her eyes widening in horror at the idea that this was going to not only last for days at a time but happen every 28 days. And if she’s reading the words correctly, it’ll happen until she gets to a certain age and starts men-o-pause. Whatever that is. But it means years of this bleeding.

            “Why…?” Her horror must be coming across cause Mike wrinkles his nose. His free hand moves away from the entry to come rub at the back of his neck. His other hand is still captured in her own and she’s been unconsciously pressing it into the hot water bottle, the added pressure to her lower belly helping with the pain. He’s noticed because right now he’s super conscious of her in every way. He doesn’t say anything about it though and tries to let that part of him remain loose, letting her guide where he goes.

            “It’s just… how it is. I mean, I know it’s not fun but… it’s a sign that you’re healthy and that you can have babies. Like in the future. Like far out in the future.” He wants to curse at himself for the babies bit. Like what was the point of even adding that? He’s such a wasteoid.

            “Babies?” Mike sighs loudly at this point, hand moving from his neck and suddenly coming to pinch the bridge of his nose.

            “I am so _not_ the one who should be giving you The Talk.”

            “B-but why?” He’s peering at her briefly and immediately looks away but leans his head over until it’s touching hers.

            “Please don’t look at me like that. It’s not that I don’t want to…” Well. He kind of doesn’t want to. This is hard. “…Just… it’s usually an adult, like a parent, that explains all of this. And since they’ve gone through it, they’re just… better at explaining and answering questions.” He takes another breath and admits. “I don’t want to explain anything wrong or make this more confusing and scary than it already is.”

            “Oh…” She’s quiet for a moment before finally saying. “So I should ask Hopper?” Mike makes a face before he can control his expression.

            “Probably.” But if he’s being honest, Mike thinks El shouldn’t have to be asking. Hopper should have already sat her down and had the Talk with her. He sort of wants to tell the older man off for completely messing up but its neither here nor there so he simply works on taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. “Hopper or Ms. Byers. I think they’d both be good for you to talk to about this…” He feels her nod to his words before she snuggles closer to him.

            “Mike?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Are we done with the book?” She asks quietly and he nods, a little perplexed. It makes sense though when she releases his hand to close the book and drop it to the ground. She then curls back up, using his lap as her pillow before asking him sweetly if he can tell her a story while they wait for Max and Lucas to join them.

 

tbc...


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

 

            Max knocks the code onto the door with her free hand. Her other hand is occupied with the plastic bag containing a variety of odds and ends. Some chocolate, some hair ties, and yeah, the actual reason she’s even here. Some tampons and sanitary pads because if it’s the Mage’s first time, she ought to at least see what’s out there and be able to decide what she wants to use.

            Max remembers her first time receiving a visit from her _Aunt Flow_ and how her mother had been weirdly proud, happy, and sad all at once while soothing Max’s nerves and reminding her that yes, all was okay. She’d had warning at least. She’d been told that this would happen. She can’t even imagine what it would have been like without the heads up.

            When she’d first learned of El’s life story, she’d thought Lucas was spinning a wild tale to get her attention and her forgiveness. It had been creative but so out there, she hadn’t been able to believe even a fragment of it. Then seeing the demodogs in action had shown her that he’d been telling her the truth all along but she’d been so scared for their lives that she hadn’t quite thought about what it meant to be El. What she’d lived through before coming to settle in the cabin in the woods.

            After all, to hear the boys talk about her, El was simply a superhero. Their superhero. Tough and unbreakable. Wheeler’s call to Dustin’s supercomm during their lunch period had forced her to think about it in a different way. She hadn’t felt comfortable with some of the conclusions she’d come to.

            After El’s initial rejection of her, she’d sort of avoided thinking of the Mage because she’d been scared of what would happen to her place in the Party. And it had been easy enough to not think of her. She didn’t go with the boys to visit her – the visits were rare anyway that she didn’t even feel like she was missing out on much. It really was only when the boys updated her with news of El or when Mike got his supercomm taken away and his and El’s relationship was brought up that she _really_ had to think of the other girl that made up the rest of the Party.

            Yet here she is, standing on the other side of the wooden door, ready to help the girl out. It’s really to help Wheeler out and she has to admit, Mike really is a good guy. She’s not sure how many other guys their age would have had the same amount of care and balls to do what he’s doing now. Which is so silly when she thinks about it because all of this is _natural_. Stupid society.

            The door opens to reveal no one behind it. Although Max knows ( _she’s seen what the girl can do),_ it still startles her and she can’t help but look at Lucas nervously. Lucas is already heading in though, completely at ease.

            “Hey, we’re here…” He calls out and Max hears Mike’s answering call. She’s left having to follow her boyfriend and close the door behind the two of them with the back of her foot. It takes a moment for her sight to adjust from the brightness of the outside world to the dim lighting in the cabin. All the curtains are drawn shut and there’s only the light in the living room that’s been turned on. Still once her sight does adjust, she can see that the cabin is clean and has a homey feel to it. Wheeler is on the couch with the Mage leaning against him. He’s shifting to get up, offering her a hand in the process and Max can see from where she is that getting up is most likely the last thing the other girl wants to do right then and there.

            “Hey, I brought stuff.” Max offers, holding up the bag for all to see. Wheeler looks decidedly relieved and grateful.

            “Thanks, Max, I owe you.”

            “Yeah you do…” She says good-naturedly. “Well, I guess this is where you and I,” She points a finger at the Mage and tries to put on her bravest, _I don’t give a shit_ _if you hate me_ , game face on. “Get to experience some girl bonding time.” The girl’s large brown eyes widen and she glances back at Wheeler with clear trepidation in her pale face.

            “Girl bonding time?” The question is asked softly and Wheeler looks between the two looking slightly trapped. Yet he still gives an explanation because it’s clear he’ll never be able to NOT answer the girl.

            “Yeah, Max has supplies that should help out with, you know…”

            “…my period…menstr-u-ation cycle… the bleeding?” It’s clear that the girl is reciting something that she’s just been told and that although it may make some sense to her, she’s still trying to put all the pieces together. Max again finds herself wondering about what El’s life has been like. What it is like even now to this day. For someone that seems so much bigger than life to have so little knowledge of certain things that Max simply takes for granted is a little scary and mind boggling all at the same time.

            “Exactly.” Wheeler nods and The Mage has a look that’s a touch of pride, some relief, and a whole heck of a lot of affection that’s clearly all for Wheeler. It should be shmoopy as hell and even a bit embarrassing to witness the two of them at it and it is, but it’s also just a smidgen adorable. Not that Max will ever admit this to anyone.

            She continues to watch as the girl squeezes Wheeler’s hand one last time and it’s apparent that its only due to how much she trusts the nerdy guy, that she’s willing to follow Max anywhere. Max will take that and run with it for now.

            She has El show her the way to the bathroom and once they’re both in there, she closes the door behind them. It’s slightly awkward to find that she has the Mage’s attention solely focused on her. She seems softer than the first time they met. Her hair isn’t slicked back, she doesn’t have kohl smudged around her eyes, nor is she wearing black clothes with combat boots. She’s also not as put together than at the dance where she’d had a pretty dress and her hair all done up. Instead, she looks a bit lost in too big of clothing, barefooted and hair loose around her face and shoulders.

            It’s different too in that she’s acknowledging Max’s presence. She’s actually looking at Max and she looks nervous. Nervous of Max? That throws her for a loop before she shakes her head. That can’t be it. She must be imagining things because _she_ herself is nervous.

            She turns her attention to what’s in the bag and starts to take items out, showing them to El one by one. “Okay, so this helps to keep the blood from getting on your clothes. You have two options – tampon or a pad.” She proceeds to explain how each works but also taps on the tampon box that has illustrated step by step instructions because if the Mage chooses to go that route, she’s not going to stay to witness the trial runs on that one. If she chooses the pad, then honestly, she has no beef in asking El to grab a clean pair of underwear and show her how to put it on correctly the first time. She stops and glances at the girl, realizing that she’s been talking for a bit. “Questions?”

            El is just looking at her, seeming more than a little lost and overwhelmed. “No?” She words out in a way that makes it sound like a question and Max blinks at her. Well fuck…

            “Is there one that you’d like to use more than the other?” She prompts and El answers her with big eyes. Max gives a little sigh and makes the decision than and there to go down the path of least resistance. “How about we go with the pad first…You can always try out the tampon another time. K?”

            “…k…?”

            “Good,” Max nods trying to look more confident about this whole situation. “Let’s go get you some clean underwear then…” El blinks but obediently turns to head out of the bathroom and back to her room.

            Her room has some decorations that Max briefly takes in. She recognizes Will’s artwork and sees pictures of the Party here and there. There’s only one stuffed animal on the bed though and it looks a little old and frayed at the edges. There’s more books than anything else but they seem to be little kid books and it makes her frown before she turns her attention back to El who’s following her instructions down to a T.

…

            “What the hell happened, man?” Lucas asks now that the girls are out of the room. Mike gives a little shrug before quietly saying.

            “El pulled me into the Void, she was just… panicking.” The explanation makes Lucas frown.

            “The Void? And you… heard her? Like she communicated with you through the Void?”

            “Yeah…” Mike isn’t sure what’s so surprising about that. After all, hadn’t El managed to do that with Will that one time? Granted, he’d been in the Upside Down but still. That shouldn’t make a difference, right?

            “Huh… cool and weird. She’s okay though, right?” Lucas sees Mike’s nod and gives a smile at it before asking his next question. “Think she’s getting stronger?” Mike shrugs at that bit because it’s the least of his worries at this very moment.

            “Probably.”

            Lucas must see something on his face because after a moment’s pause just asks, “You okay?” Mike glances at him before simply shrugging again.

            “I’ve never heard her be so scared. Not since…” The word that should come out next is _demogorgon_ but in his mind, he thinks _Papa_ and he shudders from that memory. “I just wish things could be different.” He manages before clearing his throat. “So how’d you all handle Richie?”

            Lucas’ expression and flinch make it clear that the answer is _not well._

…

            When the two girls come back out, El seems more relaxed and is answering Max’s questions with a nod or a shake of the head, a little smile playing on her face. Max herself seems more at ease and something in Mike finally lets go.

            He’s already asked Lucas to stay with El until Hopper’s back and his friend had promised to do just that. Now he just needs to make sure that Max can stay too… or if he should be planning on getting her home before he goes back to school and deals with the aftermath of leaving the way he did.

            Lucas saves him the trouble by going up to his girlfriend and gently twining one of her curls onto a finger and tugging.

            “What the hell stalker?” But its not angrily asked and she follows him into the kitchen leaving Mike and El alone.

            “You have to go…” El sounds sad but unsurprised as she looks into his face and Mike grimaces.

            “Yeah, I should…Richie’s going to have so many questions as it is.” She nods simply and then comes to press her face into his chest, leaving him feeling too full of so many fucking emotions he sometimes feels he could just explode. Awkwardly, because he always feels awkward now with his body growing at a pace he can’t keep up with, he brings his arms around her. “You’re feeling better though, right?” He feels her nod, her own arms coming to circle around him.

            “When?”

            He’s gotten used to her one word responses like they were fully structured sentences or questions and so he doesn’t even hesitate in answering, understanding exactly what she’s asking of him.

            “I’ll come back as soon as I can. Maybe this weekend if I can get Max and the gang to take Richie to the arcade. I’ll call tonight though and I’ll write, every day. I promise.” She breathes him in and nods again, arms tightening her hold briefly before she lets him go. It still feels like it’s too soon. But he’s learning that it’ll always feel like it’s too soon whenever its time for him to go.

            “Promise.” El says quietly under her breath and offers him her pinky with a little crooked smile. He takes it with a smile of his own and after a shake, his fingers move so that they’re interlaced with hers.

            They face the other couple this way and Max lets him know that she’s fine continuing to have some girl time and her stalker can just suck it up because god knows, she’s been dealing with their testosterone filled bullshit every day so… It makes Mike smile a bit while Lucas seems just a smidgeon alarmed at the announcement.

            “What exactly does girl time entail?” Mike snickers at the question and laughs outright as Max’s too sweet sounding response of “you’ll see.”

            After that, he doesn’t make the goodbye stretch out overlong. He can’t. Not with an audience. But he still presses a sweet and chaste goodbye kiss on El’s lips before heading out and then it’s just the sound of his footsteps on broken branches and fallen leaves that surround him until he gets to his bike.

            If only the sound was louder than his thoughts.

            He starts off heading straight back to school but without meaning to, he veers off course and finds himself going into town. He jerks his bike into a sharp turn when he sees that the chief’s car is indeed parked in front of the police station, indicating that the man is there.

            It’s funny – emotions and thoughts – that is. When he was with El, all he could focus was on making her feel better, letting his own panic subside and trying to choke down his embarrassment.

            When he’d left her, he’d felt a mixture of things. Happy he’d seen her. Sad and resentful and more than just a little resigned because this was his life, their life, and he couldn’t wait until they could just _be_ and not have to hide and plan and just… he wished things were simply different.

            And then that had sparked a whole slew of thoughts and those thoughts had triggered an anger that he’d thought he’d pushed back down. It had flared up briefly with El, thinking of her asking Hopper when Hopper should have already fucking told her everything….

            Now the anger is back with a vengeance and Mike lets it guide him into skidding into a dead halt in the parking lot and not caring how he lets his bike fall against the pavement. He simply walks in and Flo looks at him confused.

            “Mr. Wheeler… can I help you with something?”

            “Yeah, I mean, yes please. Is…” He has to remind himself to add the man’s title. “Chief Hopper here?”

            “Well yes… but…”

            “It’s really important that I speak to him directly.” He’s not sure what convinces her most. His urgent tone, the look in his eyes, the way he’s leaning into her desk – whatever it is, she just gives a little sigh before getting up.

            “Let me see if he’s available.”

Minutes later she’s back and motioning him down the hallway that leads to the man’s office. Mike has never seen it but he doesn’t let himself get distracted.

            “Kid,” Hopper starts. “What’s this about? Shouldn’t you still be in school at your…” He makes a gesture that Mike thinks is supposed to make up for his lack of memory for their A/V Club.

            “It’s about El.” He manages and Hopper straightens up, looking both alarmed and thunderous. It’s clear he’s about to tell Mike off for even mentioning her name and that just makes his own anger grow that much more. “Why didn’t you tell her?” The accusatory question leaves the older man looking confused.

            “What?”

            “Why didn’t _you_ tell her?! I got called out of school by her _panicking_ that she was dying! Do you have _any_ idea what that’s like?”

            “What the hell are you talking about?”

            “El. She got her period today and…”

            “She what?!” They’re not yelling. Both are still too much in control to yell but they are hissing in each other’s faces. Mike is now only a couple inches short of being the same height with the older man. Give him another couple years though and…

            Enough is shared that Hopper finally understands why he’s suddenly dealing with the middle of the Wheeler children, hopping mad, and making accusations. It still throws him for a loop and he can’t tell what it is he’s feeling at being lectured by a friggin’ teenager about his parental duties of all things.

            He tries to explain. Tries to make his case before he realizes that he feels guilty and ill prepared.

            “Hey! I had a choice and I made it with her best interest at heart, kid. We don’t know how much of the studies changed her and she’s had enough shit to deal with lately that I didn’t want her to deal with more loss if…”

            “If what? If it didn’t happen? When would you have clued her in?” So now they may be approaching to yelling. “You adults always lie thinking it’s to protect us. Like we can’t handle it when the truth is… it’s _you_ that can’t handle it!” Mike shoves the man off and takes a couple steps back. “You’re pathetic.”

            He doesn’t wait to hear what ever else the man might have to say. It doesn’t actually matter to him because it won’t ever change the fact that he’ll always remember how terrified she sounded in his head and the way she shook and the way her face had been way too pale. There are no words, no explanations, that will ever make what he did okay.

            So he walks out and ignores the way his name is roared out behind him.

 

Tbc...

 

A/N - I had the day off and decided to dedicate it to practicing self-care and writing. I hope you all are having a fantastic week!


	26. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The official countdown begins (aka Richie is so close to finding out about what the fuck all has been happening in Hawkins)! Thank you everyone for all the support and keeping up with this fic! I so appreciate each and everyone of you!

Chapter 25

 

            Richie is on his feet when the door to the A/V opens and reveals Mike, out of breath and red in the face. 

                  “What the hell Mike?” The loss of the nickname is indicative of his frustration at having dealt with the knowing looks and non-answers from his twin’s friends for the afternoon. He’s clearly being left in the dark about something  _big_  and he didn’t appreciate how despite the rest of the “Party” being relieved at getting Mike’s call via Dustin’s supercomm at lunch, he hadn’t been told anything remotely useful.

            The whole,  _Mike promises to be back by the end of A/V club so that you guys can go home together_ had really grated his nerves in particular. It was lucky that Red and Will-will or Doe Eyes (as he was now starting to think of him as) were his favorites from the Party and that Red had delivered the news or else he would have very graphically told her what to do with that particular piece of information. She’d also looked apologetic in the delivery which hadn’t hurt and had allowed him to swallow down some of the expletives that had been sitting just at the tip of his tongue.       

            It’s also lucky that Doe Eyes had stayed with him and hadn’t left him alone with Dusty during the so-called A/V club meeting. He would have strangled the curly haired teen for answers and honestly, just for being his irritatingly cheerful nerdy self. If Richie heard him purr one more time…

            As it was, he’d exhausted all of the anxiety management techniques he’d been taught in therapy and then some in order to simply stay in the fucking room with the two of them and not lose his shit.

            “Where the fuck have you been?!” 

            Mikey makes a face that is somewhat apologetic and somewhat something that Richie can’t quite name. Maybe guilty? But maybe that’s what he wants his twin to feel in this very moment.

            “Sorry, sorry…” Mikey breathes out, hands coming up in what Richie supposes is meant to be a pacifying motion. “It was an emergency Richie. I swear.” 

            “An emergency that was what? Telepathically communicated to you in the middle of class?!” He demands and doesn’t miss when his twin pales somewhat; looks quickly being exchanged by Mikey, Doe Eyes and Dusty that is just a smidgen panicky. It makes him curse out loud and point a finger into his twin’s face in an irate fashion. “Oh that is  _fucking_ it. What is the big conspiracy?! I’ve had to deal with everyone exchanging coded looks and messages for the entire day since you just hightailed it out of here!” 

                  Mikey’s eyes widen further before he frowns a little at the two who are watching this all go down. A very  _nice going, guys_  version of his bitch look being thrown their way. His twin’s face is very expressive. In the background he hears Dusty curse softly and mutter something about “here we go again.” The again is unclear but so much  _is_  at this point that Richie ignores Dusty and keeps his focus on Mikey. 

                  Mikey seems to brace himself for another outburst and when simply a heavy expectant silence maintains, he straightens up and looks Richie dead in the eye. 

            “We are keeping something from you, yes. It’s… complicated and we can’t talk about it in here. It’s also not… it’s not simply our story to tell you. If it was, well, I already voted we tell you…” The words are said in a direct, straightforward manner, apologetic yet firm. The validation that something is being kept from him and delivered in such an honest way keeps Richie from exploding again. At least the bullshit has been cut out. “Look, can we talk about this at home?”

            Before Richie can ask, Doe Eyes steps in and offers quietly. “The others outside of the Party who are also involved have already been asked to see what we can share with you and we’re hoping to get some answers by the end of the week.” Mikey looks surprised by the information and seeks confirmation by glancing at Dusty who also nods. There’s something else that’s being communicated by the other two and Richie is more than a little bewildered when Dusty gives Mikey a crooked smile and offers his hand for his twin to shake. Mikey gives a similar looking smile but grips the hand in a firm and steady handshake.

            “Seriously, what the fucking bloody fuck?!”

            Oops… he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But it’s clear that he has as Mikey and Dusty drop the handshake and turn back to face him. And anyway its not like his outburst is questioning the _fucking_ handshake. He’d already known that Dusty and Mikey were on the outs from Mikey’s huffy exit yesterday. He’d been expecting the whole whatever the fuck golden rule about spilling blood and shaking on it to happen between his twin and Dusty at some point but really? Fucking now? With no fucking words exchanged? What the fuckity?

            “You have to trust me… please?” Mikey says quietly. Well, that takes the rest of the air out of Richie’s sails. He doesn’t like the sound of  _any_  of  _that_. But what is he supposed to say? Or even do? And if it’s something  _this_  big that they need permission from who knows who outside of the fucking Party, does he actually want to know? Does he want to get pulled into it?

            The little voice in his head that had warned him about staying away from the  _fucking_  house on Neibolt street back in Derry is yelling at him that maybe ignorance is bliss. And that maybe, just maybe, he should start running _away_ from whatever this is rather than ask to be pulled into it.

            “Well fuck…” He still grouses just a bit. “And here I thought your bizarre freakish behavior was going to lead to a simple explanation.” He snorts. “When is anything ever simple…?” He shakes his head before leaning down to grab Mikey’s backpack along with his own. His own, he slips onto his back before throwing Mikey his without warning. There’s a satisfying grunt that indicates that he’s hit his target smack dab in the chest. “You owe me though.” 

                  “I know. I do…” Mikey mutters, rubbing at where the backpack hit with his free hand. “I heard you took great notes for me.” Now that sounds like fucking appeasement to him. No way Mikey can get his forgiveness through that. 

            “More like doodled the shit out of your notebooks.” Richie responds with a sardonic grin. “Have fun making sense out of those.” 

            “Richie…” Will-will starts quietly and Richie turns to face the other teen with a raised eyebrow.

            “Yes cutie pie?” It’s not the first time he’s used the term of endearment, it’s definitely not going to be the last time as the teen in front of him blushes in such a way that makes Richie just wants to do it more. He can’t wait to use his new nickname on him that so far Richie has only been using in his head (… _along with Will-will and sweetie and…)_. He’s not sure when he’ll dare to use it but he knows he looks forward to seeing what sort of response he gets when he finally does. “Are you going to beep me?” The tone is resigned and just slightly on the pathetic side.

            “No,” Doe Eyes huffs out despite the blush and with just the slightest roll of the eyes. There’s a backbone of steel behind the large eyes and frail appearance. Richie just knows it. “I just wanted to say, we’re sorry. We know its frustrating and thank you.”  

                  “You’re thanking me?!” 

            “Yeah…” There’s a hint of a smile tugging at those lips then. “I know you were doing your best  _not_  to lose it with Dustin and me this afternoon. So thank you.” 

            “See… this is why you’re my other favorite.” He mutters over Dusty’s exclamation of  _“That was his best? Good grief, don’t_ ever _show me your worst…”_

…

            The conversation truly doesn’t end when they leave the A/V room. It’s merely put on pause until they’re in a location that Mikey deems okay to have it continue. It makes Richie wonder about Mikey being fucking paranoid but then has to scoff at the thought because he knows his twin’s diagnosis as well as he knows his own.

            They’ve both been pegged for having PTSD. Hypervigilance is definitely a symptom that Mikey has down to a T. He’s just not sure what caused Mikey’s trauma and normally he would have asked but hey, some topics are better left not poked. Anyway, he’d been leaning towards the assumption that the trauma had been triggered by whatever had happened during Will’s disappearance and left it at that… for now.

            Still, he’s a bit unprepared for the way Mikey gages him seriously before asking a question that he’s been asking himself since leaving the A/V room. Does he actually want to know? Because this is serious stuff and even though they ( _and who the fuck is_ they _beyond the Party members, Richie still doesn’t have a sweet clue_ ) think it’s truly over, it may not be. There’s other ways that shit can all go down and Mikey needs Richie to understand it’s the sort situation where it’s life or death. There are a lot of things that can’t be shared without him understanding that it is a life or death situation and agreeing that  _IF_  he is told, he has to keep everything to himself and/or within the Party. No one else can know. 

            His twin is too serious about all of it that Richie can’t find it in himself to joke about it or well do… anything really. He simply takes it all in and asks to be able to sleep on making a decision on his end. He leaves Mikey in the basement then to take a shower to clear his head. When he comes back to their shared room, viciously toweling his hair dry and wishing that the movements could free him from his thoughts, Mikey is curled up on the bed, supercomm in his hand. He’s probably talked to “The Mage”, this mysterious person that is the only one that’s led to Mikey being secretive or leaving him in the dust. It hasn’t gone unnoticed how many times his twin has snuck off to go to write this “Mage” letters or to have conversations with “The Mage” since getting his supercomm back.

            Mikey is currently looking outside the window, pensive expression in place on his pale freckled face. Mikey doesn’t bring the topic back up and Richie finds himself fighting a war internally. Wanting to know and also wanting very much to not be pulled into another fucking paranormal fight of any kind. He ends up asking off hand if there is a paranormal element to the whole big secret and Mikey gives him a long look before huffing a loud sigh. 

            “There’s a lot of scientific explanations for it all but also a whole heck of a lot of unknowns.”

            “Okay…” He mulls on that for a bit before asking, “How often will you get pulled into weird shit?” Because suddenly that’s the key to making the decision. He’s not sure he’s capable of not knowing if it means possibly losing Mikey. He’d rather go down with his twin. The curse of getting attached to heroes and leaders. If it’s not dear Billiam, it’s now Mikey pulling him into weird ass situations that will most likely lead him to an early grave. He really needs to invest in a new baseball bat.

            Mikey chews on his bottom lip at the question and doesn't respond right away. "Depends what you mean by weird shit..." He starts slowly. "Something like today? Maybe a good handful of times. It's really hard to predict." He pushes the hair out of his face with a bit of a huff. "The bigger weird shit? It seems to be happening on a yearly basis but it's supposed to be truly over now so..." Mikey shrugs at the  _so._ It weirdly emphasizes how much of it is up in the air and that Mikey doesn't know how to answer him. But his twin is trying while keeping his word to the overall Party which Richie appreciates. Especially since apparently, the whole situation is confidential as all get out. 

            "Any clowns? Or like, other shape shifting creatures?" He throws it out there with a smile but it's an honest plea on his end.

            "You're really going to have to explain this fear of shape shifting creatures to me one of these days. And how do clowns even fall into that category...?" Still he shakes his head and doesn't push Richie to explain in that very moment. "No clowns. Nothing really shape-shifty per se..." 

            "Okay..." Richie mutters, crawling onto his bed and dropping his towel on the floor beside it. He nods more vigorously. "Okay, I'm in. I'm game." He sighs. “After all, I can't exactly let you go off gallivanting who knows where doing god knows what, without me..."

            Mikey's smile is slow but bright and Richie can't help but feel warmed by the sight of it. 

            "I was hoping you'd feel that way...cause I was told just now that everyone's for it. We'll meet on Saturday."

 

Tbc...


	27. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man, first off, thanks to all the love and support received. You all are absolutely awesome! Second, I have to admit I am nervous about posting this next chapter. I hope it all lives up to all of your expectations. And so... drum roll. Here's the chapter where Richie learns about well... everything. Enjoy.

Chapter 26

 

            The rest of the week passes as a normal blur of school, therapy sessions, and home life. There are no more freak incidents and no one brings up what happened on Wednesday. There's a clear understanding that all will be revealed on Saturday and all questions just have to wait till then.

            The most exciting thing that actually happens between Wednesday to Friday night is Mikey suddenly sporting a massive nose bleed seemingly out of no where.

            He had been complaining of a slight headache and then just yowza! Red waterfall. He'd looked perplexed and more than a little grossed out and had allowed Aunt Karen to fuss over him until the blood flow had stopped. Richie had tried to tease Mikey about the possible reasons behind the nosebleed ( _all of them highly inappropriate but so endlessly hilarious too_ ) but had ended up getting roped into watching Holly while Mikey was being outright  _babied_ by their Aunt. It had definitely been an effective way of censoring him at the time now that he thinks about it. Well played, Aunt Karen, well played.

            Looking at his twin now, no one would realize that anything had happened. He's fine now. He's not paler than usual. Actually, he looks more excited and chipper than Richie thinks he's ever seen him. It's not exactly what Richie had been expecting given the somber and potentially dangerous nature of the information that is about to be shared with him but he'll take it. It’s kind of a nice change of pace seeing that excited nervous and slightly secretive smile twitch on that often way too serious or bitchy looking face that he knows can be quite handsome and charming because well, it’s his face too.

            Richie follows at a slightly more sedate pace when they finish breakfast and call out to Aunt Karen that they're meeting up with the rest of the Party at Will's house. She calls right back out to them by the open front door to confirm that yes, they will be back for dinner, but then they're riding hard and it's not too long till Stalker joins them, Red comfortably perched on the back of his bike. They meet up with Dusty but then veer off and it becomes clear pretty quickly that the Byers' residence is NOT where they're actually going. 

            They end up in what looks to be a dumping ground of old and abandoned shit. It's not just vehicles although the bus looks pretty outstanding and full of promise. Richie hopes that the explanation doesn’t take too long or too much out of him so that they’ll have a chance to explore the big ass vehicle carcass and everything else that surrounds it. He suddenly wonders if the Party have their own secret and hidden base somewhere in Hawkins. He wouldn’t put it past Dusty or even Stalker to have mad architecture skills like Ben had. He blinks the thought away as his bike rolls to a stop next to Mikey’s.

            Mikey shows Richie where to stash their bikes and then they all just plop down on the grass. Richie settles by Mikey’s side, knowing they have to wait for the rest of the people outside the Party to show, and starts a conversation with Red about going to the arcade maybe later this weekend when two cars pull up. One of them is Jonathan’s trusty but beaten up car while the other is Chief Hopper’s police truck. The sight of it makes Richie snap his mouth shut midsentence. Red pats his arm reassuringly, a crooked smile on her face as she watches him take in all the people piling out of the cars. Doe Eyes, he expected. He was an integral part of the Party and it had been clear that his disappearance played a major role in what was going to be revealed today.

            Jonathan, Steve and Nancy however…? He shoots Mikey a look for not even giving him a heads up that Nancy was involved in all of this. And fucking Chief Hopper? What the hell is going on? How’d he get sucked into all of whatever the fuck this is?

            His twin isn’t where he’d been just seconds before though so Richie’s look is totally wasted on him. Instead, Mikey is standing and moving towards the cars with the most peculiar expression on his face. It’s not one that Richie’s ever seen before and he can’t look away.

            There’s a girl leaving Chief Hopper’s car and that’s definitely where Mikey’s sole focus is on. She’s petite with large expressive brown eyes, brown hair curly and down, the length just barely to her shoulders, and she’s dressed in a plain t-shirt and overalls. Still, he can see from where he is that she’s pretty enough.

            He has to blink at the sight of her smiling up at his twin as if he’s just the best thing she’s _ever_ laid her eyes on. And then she’s running to him, not even bothering to close the car door behind her as she ends up throwing her arms around his neck and Mikey’s answering smile and the way he wraps his own arms around her to pick her up is just...there’s something so intimate about the two of them.

            They just suddenly look like they’re the only two people in the world. Like everyone else that’s here has just disappeared.

            What. The. Holy. Bloody. Fuck?

            Chief Hopper apparently isn’t the biggest fan of whatever is going on between his twin and the girl because he’s making a little growly noise from the back of his throat. Richie thinks he hears correctly when the man barks a, “Alright enough already. You two saw each other only a couple days ago! Don’t start acting like it’s been years…”

            The girl doesn’t loosen her hold or look remotely intimidated by the gruff man. Richie can clearly see the glare she throws at him over her shoulder instead. Mikey however, slowly lowers her back to the ground and moves in such a way that they have to break apart. Richie doesn’t miss the way they automatically move to hold hands though.

            “Yeah Mike, don’t fucking hog our Mage!” Dusty exclaims and that’s when Mikey’s pale face turns red and a bitchy expression crawls right back on but it doesn’t really dim the internal light that seems to have been switched on. Richie watches bemused as the curly haired boy just ignores how Mikey and this girl keep a hold of each other even as he demands a hug from her. Her face is still shining with a smile and she seems happy to greet Dusty albeit in a more restrained way. When Dusty lets go of her, it’s the rest of the party members, ( _Red included although there’s a slight hesitance in her as if she’s not entirely sure how welcome she’ll be_ ), that go and hug her one by one. They all seem so excited to see her as if it’s a rare treat. And maybe it is.

            Richie stays sitting, watching all of it happen just a couple feet from where he is. The older teens look on as well with various expressions of amused affection at the display that they’re a witness to. They simply wave their greetings to the girl who’s “The Mage” of the Party apparently once the actual Party members let her go.

            So this is the person that Mikey’s been talking to over the supercomm all those nights… He wonders briefly if she’s also the one who’s been receiving all those quickly written letters when Mikey had been grounded.

           “Come on boys and girls. I don’t have all fucking day. I actually work…” Chief Hopper grouses and it gets everyone moving again. Richie watches as Mikey walks the girl over to him. His twin looks slightly nervous, but again, happy. Light. And really friggin’ tall and awkward looking next to her.

            “This whole conspiracy thing better not be about you having a fucking mystery girlfriend, mama’s boy.” It slips out of his mouth just as Mikey is about to open his to introduce him to the girl. Stalker at least snorts while his twin just gives him an unimpressed albeit embarrassed look.

            “No, don’t be a butt. El, this is Richie… Richie, El or as the Party calls her, our Mage.” The name El rings a vague bell to Richie but all he can remember is something or other about being a homeschooled friend. He gets up and wipes his hands on his jeans before offering her a hand, which she takes with a shy smile.

            “It’s nice to meet you _dah-ling_.” Her voice is soft and sweet as she responds.

            “Yes…”

…

            The actual explanation takes place without Chief Hopper staying for it all. He leaves after shaking a threatening finger in Richie’s face all the while explaining that they’re all taking a fucking big risk by telling him any of this and he better keep it all between his teeth once he hears it all. If there’s a leak and others learn about his adoptive daughter and all hell breaks loose, he’ll have no qualms in taking matters in his own hand to deliver the punishing ( _and final_ ) blow to whomever caused the leak.

            It’s clear that he means every word and finds whatever expression is on Richie’s face at hearing the threat, evidence enough that the message has sunk in. He also seems satisfied with the mute nod Richie is able to provide in return ( _It’s not like he can say fucking anything return. He’s a little to worried that Chief Hopper’s amped enough to fucking castrate him and he actually likes his balls where they are, thank you fucking very much)_.

            The older man turns to look at El then and reminds her about the _Don’t Be Stupid_ rules and that he’ll be back to pick her up in a handful of hours. No use begging for longer than that, they’re already pushing it as it is with her being out of the cabin in broad daylight. ( _… fucking weird and creepy if Richie thinks about_ that _too long and it makes him take another look around him…run away, the little voice in the back of his head yells at him once more. Run away. There’s still time to back out from this, don’t be a total dip shit…_ )

            Once the Chief is gone, the rest of the teens sit in a loose circle on the ground and start telling Richie exactly what’s been happening in Hawkins, Indiana. They all take turns telling him, all of them filling in different details, different pieces of the story.

            It starts with a D&D game in the Wheeler basement and Will disappearing and ends with well October of last year with Nancy’s friend Barb’s funeral and the National Hawkins Lab closing. Just a fucking handful of months ago. Which is crazy to think about...

            At times little fights break out as Stalker and Dusty bicker about minute details or the best terms to use during the re-telling. He’s not used to all of the D&D lingo despite Mikey’s halfhearted efforts in getting him interested in joining their campaigns. And Richie finds himself glad that Red’s sitting on his other side to translate for him when it’s obvious that he has no idea what the fuck they’re all talking about.

            Like what the fuck is a Mind Flayer for example?

            Apparently, something big and nasty and intelligent and able to possess people ( _cause that’s not fucking scary at all_ ). There are other terms thrown out there like demodogs, hive mind, the Upside Down, and the Void. All of it sounds way more supernatural and less scientific than he’d expected but well, he has to give it to Mikey in that all of it had started because of a scientific experiment gone wrong.

            Number Eleven…psionic studies… El.

            When it’s all finally out there, Richie can feel that he’s reeling with the overload of information. In a way it all makes sense. It explains why they all are the way they are. So incredibly connected with a mutual understanding of what’s out there and that they’ve fucking survived it all by sticking together. Even the whole weird Nancy-Jonathan and her ex-boyfriend, Steve dynamic is made clearer. ( _Although what the hell, Nancy knows how to shoot a fucking gun? That’s so bad ass of her…Definitely changes his perspective on her for sure._ )

            There’s a small part of him that is dubious about El’s powers because well, she’s fucking _tiny_ and looks way too sweet to have seriously fucking killed not just monsters but people as well. Especially with the way she’s just curled up into his brother’s side, brown eyes wide as she listens to everyone retell her life story patiently. She even ends up offering Doe Eyes support with an offered hand when Mikey had taken up the telling of how his friend had been possessed by the Mind Flayer and all that they’d had to do in order to get that _thing_ out of him before El could close the damned Gate. He’d watched as Doe Eyes gratefully took the small hand, squeezing it.

            Yeah, she definitely doesn’t give off the vibe of powerful telekinetic super powered hero. She just seems gentle and tired and really, _really_ in love with his twin. ( _Dusty gets a bit of a shove when he breaks in and tells all about how Mikey and El are like star crossed lovers and soulmates too. It’s like Stalker knows that_ those _particular details are just going to fluster and embarrass Mikey to death and it’s not even the point of the story. That’s why Stalker is Mikey’s second in command, clearly, he’ll protect him or as much as he can. The shove that he gives Dusty does little to actually shut the guy up. Still, Dusty looks damned amused at El turning to him in that moment to ask clarification about what soulmates means…_ )

            There’s another part of him that wants it to be a joke still. Especially because the whole scientific lab testing on people conspiracy freaks him right out. It brings him back to the night when Mikey had shoved an old newspaper clipping under his nose and asked him if one of the women in the black and white photograph was their mother. It had been her face and he’d stared at the pixilated image frozen. He’d taken in the way she’d looked. So young and carefree, a proud smile on her face despite the fact that she was in a hospital gown, surrounded by other similarly dressed woman and men and standing near a man in a lab coat. But he’d recognized her immediately. She’d been listed under a different last name that he didn’t recognize. Mikey had confirmed that it wasn’t their Aunt’s maiden name too. A made up name then or else she’d been married before Went Tozier. Both explanations left him feeling plenty weird.

            Mikey hadn’t explained why he had the newspaper clipping or why he was even asking if this was Maggie Tozier in the photograph. The actual article that had been surrounding the image had been neatly cut away leaving Richie even more in the dark. But now…

            Now, he’s worried it all makes too much sense. However, the newspaper clipping and their mother haven’t been woven into the explanation. Only Terry Ives, El’s mother, has been mentioned so far and he’s pretty sure that the gang has wrapped up the story telling time. She’d been in the photograph too if he remembers correctly. But he honestly can’t know for sure and he itches to pull out his wallet and look at the picture more closely.

            The absence of their own mother in the story telling makes him wonder why it’s being left out and if anyone in the Party actually knows about the newspaper clipping.

            He can’t help but look at Mikey with a slight frown pinching his features. Keeping something like that from the Party seems like a clear violation of their damned rules they all abide by so closely and carefully. He wants to call Mikey out on it but feels strange doing so with the full gang here… or well, as he now knows, almost the full gang. Ms. Byers ( _and that’s fucking mind boggling too, just as much as Mikey being able to pull off hiding a fucking girl in the basement for days on end with the way Aunt Karen is so doting and in their business all the time_ ) and Chief Hopper are part of this gang too. The only real adults come to think of it.

            “I think El should show him what she can do.” Dusty chips in excitedly suddenly and it brings Richie back to the here and now.

            “Dustin,” The way Mikey cuts in, objection clear in his voice, makes Richie wonder how many times this has been a point of contention between the two of them. “She’s tired and she’s not feeling all that great still…”

            “Mike, it’s okay…” Her soft voice stops his twin from continuing. It looks like she expected that something like this was going to be asked of her. “I’ll just do something small.” They’re looking at each other and again there’s the feeling that comes on strong that it’s back to it being just the two of them. Rest of the world be damned. “I promise.” She says finally and Mikey’s shoulders slump in defeat. Still, she squeezes his hand before looking away from him.

            Richie feels a slight chill run through him as the petite girl in front of him changes then. Her facial expression seems to harden and become colder, more closed off in a way and the wide brown eyes that seemed so sweet and innocent just seconds before are now very intense looking. She’s concentrating hard and he’s startled into jumping up when one of the bikes that had been resting just a couple feet away from them all starts to rise into the air. It floats directly towards him and he hears as Dusty and Stalker cheer her on while he simply curses.

            Objects and people shouldn’t fucking _float_!

            The sight that’s before him is tugging _hard_ to pull a memory to the forefront of his brain that he just doesn’t want to think about. Underground and dark and so many _many_ things just floating…

            The bike doesn’t quite reach him before it makes a 180 degree turn and heads back to rest where it had been before. Neatly under the broken bus.

            “Fuck!” The expletive is pulled from him again and he realizes belatedly that in his panic to get away from the floating object he’d gone and moved outside of the circle and behind Doe Eyes. Doe Eyes had stood up in response with a slightly bewildered expression on his face as to why Richie had gone to him of all people. Still, the teen had put an arm out as if he couldn’t help but at least try to provide some sort of protection. To Richie it makes plenty of sense why he’d gone to Doe Eyes.

            His first choice would have been Mikey but not when _she’s_ right next to him and clearly manipulating where the bike is heading. Plus, everyone knows that Doe Eyes can get anyone and everyone to listen to him. He’s also empathic and he knows when enough is enough.

            Apparently Richie’s logic is lost on these people as the rest of the party are all expressing various levels of amusement. It ranges from Dusty’s outright ( _only slightly infectious_ ) guffaw of laughter and pointing out how hilarious it looks to have tall gangly Richie trying to hide behind the second smallest in the group to Jonathan’s painfully familiar expression of amused yet concerned smile. He’s seen it plenty of times on Doe Eyes’s own face and it’s never been clearer to him but in that moment how much Jonathan and Doe Eyes are brothers.

            Richie responds to the Party members and the older teens in the only way he knows how. He flips them all the bird before huffily sitting back down where he is, leaving Doe Eyes still acting as a buffer between him and El.

            Mikey and El are the only ones who aren’t really amused or participating within the group. Richie clues in a moment later as to why when he realizes that Mikey’s carefully and very gently wiping the girl’s face with a handkerchief. She’s bleeding from her nose and looks paler and exhausted. They’re clearly in their own bubble again and the whole feeling of it being an intimate moment makes Richie look away. Doe Eyes catches him at it and gives an understanding little nod.

            “It takes a bit to get used to… but you will.”

            Richie doesn’t have it in him in that moment to ask whether it’s her powers or the way she sucks up all of his twin’s attention that he needs to get used to. It’s most likely both and he’s not sure he likes that answer.

 

Tbc...


	28. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You all are absolutely awesome and I hope you all know how much it means, all of the support and each and every comment or kudos that you've sent my way. It always puts a smile to my face and warms my heart! So thank you, thank you, and a million more thank yous!!! 
> 
> I know a lot of you have been wondering about the Losers and when they'll be introduced as well as D&D parties... and well... this chapter may hold some of those answers or scenes.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy. Wishing all of you the best and HAPPY FRIDAY everyone!!! w00t!!!

Chapter 27

 

            Knowing the truth changes some things while a good chunk merely stays the same. School continues to chug along. The Party continues to meet after school for A/V club meetings that only specifically focus on A/V topics here and there and with Mr. Clarke’s helpful guidance on the new radios and transmitters that start to get installed in the small space. Often times though that last hour of the day remains a way for the _Party members only_ to be together without distraction, without weird stares, without commentary or slurs sent their way. It’s a like a sigh of relief during the more mundane and dull moments of the school day.

            Therapy sessions move from being twice a week to weekly and there’s even talk of changing it to once a month in a distant yet close future. Sleep continues to have its ups and downs with nightmares still present but more easily overcome and forgotten. The twins’ medications are tweaked _(more like fucking increased)_ to help manage not only the trauma symptoms ( _aka knock the shit out of him so he’s in complete oblivion when he’s asleep)_ but also the ADHD symptoms. It’s caused Richie to miss school once or twice and he’s also had to manage the lack of appetite that comes with the medication.            

            Mikey nags him to eat ( _seriously, nags like an old woman would_ ) and gets Doe Eyes on his side during the school days so that there’s friggin’ two of them reminding him to eat and watching him like a hawk when he does which is fucking unfair but it works and he stops losing weight. He doesn’t necessarily put it back on but at least he’s in a place of maintaining now.   

            Richie thinks that Mikey’s not dealing with the same side effects because he’s not taking the ADHD meds and he’s glad of it. He doesn’t know what it would be like to see Mikey wasting away and it’s that thought only that keeps him from giving his brother _true_ hell over the nagging. He gets it, he does. And he can’t lie, it’s nice to have people actually _paying attention_ and _caring_ about him. Even if it is fucking weird and randomly gives him the heebie jeebies.

            Honestly, the only side effect Mikey and Richie seem to share is periods of headaches to varying degrees of severity and duration with bloody noses that follow. Again, he’s not sure whether it’s his other medication that he’s on that makes it different for him or what… but Mikey tends to get the headaches more often, same with the bloody noses. He’s quiet about them and Richie’s realizing that despite the _Party Golden Rules_ , there’s a lot that Mikey doesn’t share with the Party. Like the newspaper clipping, like the therapy sessions, like the medication, like the nosebleeds…

            When asked, Mikey simply gives Richie a little torn look before saying softly, “I don’t want to worry them over nothing. I just… want things to be okay… you know?” And Richie does get it. Especially knowing the backstory. The same protective urge he knows Mikey feels for the group becomes his.

            Maybe that is a change but it feels like a natural one to have as his twin’s friends surely become his own. ( _And all of them are becoming his, even Dusty who offered Richie his hand to shake at the end of the big reveal with an added verbal apology that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Richie until Mikey explained that Dusty hadn’t really been big on the idea of Richie knowing everything and that he’d had some weird theories about_ why _Richie had been placed with the family in the first place. As if he’d fucking had a say in all of this. But he’d shaken the hand, blindly, confused, and things were copasetic and he didn’t begrudge Dusty for his original suspicions_ )…

            The only _real_ ( _in that it doesn’t feel_ totally _natural_ ) change is that Mikey no longer hides to talk to the Mage ( _freaky little girlfriend_ ) and on weekends, when the Party goes to the arcade, Mikey typically slips away to go spend time with her. Sometimes there’s talk of all of them going but that hasn’t happened yet. The Party still waits for Good Ol’ Hopper to give the okay. And he hasn’t yet.

            There’s increasing tension between Mikey and the Chief and he has a feeling that has more to do with the lack of permission. He knows that Mikey’s current visits haven’t been approved either. But no one in the Party comments ( _they do tease though, Richie definitely giving his virgin ass of a twin as much shit as he can for having a fucking secret girlfriend. He’s often beep beeped if Doe Eyes is around and glared at or shoved by Mikey if it’s just the two of them and Doe Eyes isn’t there to help his twin out_ ) and instead they work together seamlessly to cover Mikey’s tracks.

            He has to admit that Mikey and the Mage do seem like a tragic romance story and he’s starting to count down the days until she’s introduced to Hawkins already. It’s not like he necessarily wants her to be part of _his_ daily life ( _which she totally will be and he’s accepting of that fact_ ). It’s more that he wants the secrecy to end. He wants a little bit of normal and if she’s no longer a secret, the heaviness of the story he’s been told will lighten a bit. Like the threat is confirmed to have finally died completely.

            He hopes anyway.

            Besides that, the air outside starts to get warmer, life springing back into the green vegetation and Richie starts feeling excited about school ending ( _…yeah, yeah, it’s still months away but the count down can begin mother fuckers…)_. He asks the Party members what sort of traditions they have to celebrate the end of the school year and gets looks that range from amused approval to outright shocked horror when he shares that he typically dumps ALL content from his backpack into the nearest trashcan.

            Dear god, you’d have thought he’d spat on a Bible with the way Dusty hugged his backpack closer to his body.

            “You’re such a nerd…” He’d offered the boy with an amused smirk and shake of the head. He’d been made to promise that he would do his yearly backpack dumping on his own things only and it was made clear that Dusty would not partake at ALL. The others though, that was still a bit up in the air. Red seemed tempted, Stalker amused, Doe Eyes thoughtful and Mikey had simply rolled his eyes at all of them.

            He’s not the only one excited about summer and what it’ll bring though. All of them start to share the plans that they know are already in place with families – such as the Wheeler trip to the grandparents and Red’s trip to California ( _tubular dude! Bring us back some fun shit!)_ – to the ones that the Party wants to make happen. Like camping in backyards, going to the Quarry, going to the summer festival, and the fourth of July parade and firework show, and, and… the list is actually ongoing and filled with lots of laughter and details of who will get what prepared and who gets to teach the Mage what…

            She’s in every plan now and Richie sees how it affects Mikey each time she’s mentioned. It’s still fucking weird. He figures it’ll continue to be fucking weird for him until she’s more _visibly_ and _physically_ included in their day-to-day lives. But for now, she’s a weird mix of real and a mere figment of a memory that could have easily belonged to one of his tamer nightmares.

            Mikey’s not actually here this very moment. Instead Richie is with Red and Doe Eyes in the Wheeler basement. The other half of the Party are getting the necessary materials for the upcoming D&D campaign that is _finally_ happening. He doesn’t know how long they’ll be at the store but hopefully not too much longer.

            Red can tease all she wants but Richie’s got her number on this particular topic. He’d noticed the way her eyes got teary when Mikey-baby had handed her the Zoomer character profile along with her own binder full of D&D lore. He’d filed the observation away and figures he’ll tease her about it another day, another moment.

            Right now though, he’s just happy enough to be with these two waiting vs. getting who knows what. Dusty, Stalker, and Mikey had left approximately 20 minutes ago to get those needed supplies which included a new dice and some food.

            Apparently, whatever Mikey’s brain had come up with was going to lead to a very long campaign. Despite it being the weekend and his usual “off” days for taking his Ritalin, Richie had taken it because it was the only way he’d be able to handle sitting for 10 hours straight with these fuckers in the darkened basement playing D&D.

            “You know, you never talk about home.” Red starts, casually dropping the comic she’d been flipping through to the currently empty chair beside her. “Who were your friends before you came here? What did you all do on the weekends?” Red asks and the question takes Richie aback. He blinks at her and misses the way Doe Eyes’ looks worriedly between the two of them, getting up and making his way over from where he’d been settled on the floor with his drawing pad as if in coming closer he can rewind the scene and stop it from happening.

            Honestly, Richie’s more surprised that the question hasn’t happened yet. Fuck though did it catch him off guard. After all, it’s been like months since he’s been here now. He wonders belatedly if the question is now being asked because the Big Reveal has happened and all secrets are supposed to be aired out.

            “Awh Red, you worried I’ll slip back over there and forget you sweet nerds?” She rolls her eyes at him and flips him the bird.

            “I’m serious Richie.”

            “Well we definitely didn’t play D&D that’s for sure.” He mutters before shrugging. “I dunno, shit… we used to just hang out, play video games, watch movies…” ( _… have rock fights with bullies and roamed through crack dens to hunt down killer clowns…swing in a hammock in a spider infested underground bunker hand made by one New Kid…_ ) He trails off and looks at her. “What is it that you actually want to know?” He’s at a point where he’d rather have specific questions to answer rather than just ramble about friends that he’s made a point not to think about because it still _hurt_. And he’s still majorly ambivalent about wanting to reach out to them and not wanting to have anything to do with his old life.

            The scar on the palm of his hand itches and he can’t help but poke it with a finger, the much chewed upon nail easing the itch as it stabs the puckered skin there.

            Dr. Winterwell said that this was normal. That it was okay to be ambivalent. That there was no rush and no one could pressure him to reconnect or to not reconnect. He’d also been telling Richie that baby steps could be taken like writing a letter instead of jumping right off the bat to a phone call.

            Clearly his therapist had never attempted to decipher his handwriting. He can already imagine the griping that Stan-the-Man and Eddie-Bear would have over his chicken scratch and most likely inappropriate doodles in the corners of the letter that would never be written and never be sent. Its weirdly amusing and sad as all get out to contemplate and so Richie shoves that idea back into a corner of his brain he’d long ago labeled – do not touch or if you do, recycle and reshape until hilariously, jaw dropping, Voice inducing funny material. It has yet to be recycled. Clearly.

            “Hmm… I dunno, who made up the we?” Red asks. She’s propping herself on the table, chin being cupped by both of her hands. It lets her way-long red hair tumble freely over her shoulders to frame her.

            “Ah, well that’s easy enough to answer.” ( _Not_ ). “Billiam was our dear fearless leader. Picture someone like Mikey except not with this handsome mug and less tall and who also stutters.” That pulls for a smile from both Red and Doe Eyes. Richie likes those smiles and it helps him continue on despite that it still feels…off. “Stan-the-man would have to come next. He’s Jewish, about this tall with curls, an unexplainable love for birds, and the driest humor ever. You’d think he hated me but I know deep, deep, _deep_ down he’s secretly madly in love with me.” Richie taps his chin. “I got to see his Bar Mitzvah and learned that it does not entail in the Rabbi pulling down your pants and asking ‘where’s the beef?!’ Or of them cutting off a piece of said beef. Which was good, would have made it awkward seeing that take place since we’re friends and all.” Red snorts at that and shakes her head.

            “Please tell me you didn’t actually believe that…” He simply smirks at her in response before moving down the list and besides him Doe Eyes seems to relax. ( _Good for him_. _He’s not feeling more relaxed as the conversation continues. Quite the opposite actually._ )

            “Eds, Eddie Bear, Eddie Spaghetti, or Noodle head was our short little firecracker and medic. Brilliant he was, Dr. K., I had plenty of boo-boos treated by the Good ol’ chap.” Richie doesn’t really want to stay on that particular topic though and so he hurries on. “And then well, Mike or Homeschool and Ben and Bev all joined the ranks over the summer before I came here actually.”

            “No nicknames for Ben and Bev?” Doe Eyes asks, voice curious and soft. He leans in as he asks and Richie finds himself slowly relaxing into the steady shoulder that’s now nestling into his side. Funny how Does Eyes has that effect on him.

            “Hmm, no. They got nicknames too. You can’t meet me and get away without at _least_ one. Ben was like Good Old’ Dusty, a glorious and all out capital N.E.R.D. I simply called him our resident nerd. Bev called him new kid though. Jesus you should have seen his room.” Richie shakes his head free of the memory. He doesn’t want to remember that room and all of the information on what made Derry a friggin’ horror movie. It’s weird. He can feel his chest tighten and he tries to take a slightly deeper breath in before continuing. It does nothing to alleviate the tightness. “And Bev well… I think I called her Molly Ringwald whenever she’d piss me off. Bevie when she didn’t…” He looks at Red for a moment and adds softly. “I think the two of you would have hit it off. She was all sorts of a badass too. Totally fucking showed us up at the friggin’ Quarry.”

            “Oh yeah?”

            “Hells yeah.” Richie huffs and flicks a curl out of his face. “Comes out of fucking nowhere and jumps over the edge like nobody’s business while we were still pussyfooting as to who would go first.” Red smiles at that and looks like she’s picturing it in her head.

            “She sounds awesome.” Richie nods at the sentiment and wonders what the next question will be. “Man, I bet they must miss you like the dickens.” Red mutters between her fingers. It’s strange to hear someone say that about him and there’s a small part of him that warms because what he truly takes from it is confirmation that Red would miss him if he were to go away. It also makes him feel awkward and he hopes the goofy smile on his face is real enough to mask the awkwardness. “Any plans for them to come visit you over the summer or you going to visit them? It’d be cool to meet them…” Again, the question isn’t one he’s expecting and the warmth and awkwardness leaves him, strangled out by a mixture of guilt, shame, longing and sadness.

            And the ambivalence.

            The ambivalence is back and warring inside of him. He doesn’t want his two worlds colliding.

            A little noise is dying at the back of his throat.

            All he has to say is _no_. Or even _I don’t know_. One to three little words. It’s not much. But nothing comes out besides that weird little noise.

            He doesn’t even know why he’s reacting this way, right now, right here. It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it, hasn’t talked about it… but in the safety of Dr. Winterwell’s office, it’s different. It feels contained. It feels separate from the life here. The separation is what makes it okay to talk about, to poke at it, sometimes jokingly, sometimes showing the struggle that’s tearing at him.        

            Distantly, he sees that Red is arching an eyebrow at the lack of a response and Doe Eyes is moving against him.

            “Richie…?” At the same time that Doe Eyes is saying his name softly, he hears Mikey’s name being called out upstairs in a way that sounds surprised, vaguely alarmed, vaguely annoyed. Aunt Karen. There’s the noise of running and Mikey’s suddenly there, grabbing his shoulder and pulling at him to get up and out of the chair, away from Doe Eyes and Red who go from concerned and confused to full out shocked.

            “Scuse us…” Mikey exclaims out of breath. “Need Richie for something…” Richie follows his twin blindly, tripping up a step or two and definitely getting elbowed in the process as they bump into a swearing Dusty and equally flustered Stalker.

            “What the hell man?”

            “Not now Dustin!” Mikey calls out, still tugging Richie up the stairs and out of the basement. He doesn’t let go until they’re suddenly outside and Richie blinks at the change in light and scenery. He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he’s forced to release it and his lungs _hurt_.

            Mikey slowly is turning around to face him, a strange worried look on his face. He stays quiet though and simply mirrors Richie when Richie ends up sitting on the grass, pulling his knees to his chest and letting his head fall to the top of his knees. Boxed in by his own body, Richie can finally not just breathe again and think but start to work on regulating both – slow the process down. In, out…

            In… out.

            “How the fuck did you know…?” Richie mutters when he’s finally able to look back up without feeling like he’s going to puke, faint, or do all of the above. Mikey’s frowning, face pale and pinched.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Don’t play stupid. How did you know I needed you…?” ( _How’d you know I was about to have a complete melt down because I can’t handle simple questions and you weren’t there and I needed you and I can’t think. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel so just fucking pay attention and answer the damned question and…_ )

            “…I didn’t.” Mikey starts slowly. “I mean… I didn’t until I saw _you_ and then figured you didn’t want to have a panic attack in front of them. That’s what that was, right? What I walked in on? What the hell triggered it?”

            Richie’s suspicious but too tired to hold onto it and so lets it go ( _for now_ ). He just falls backwards so that he’s now all sprawled out instead of boxed in. He no longer needs the sense of being contained. He needs the freedom, wants the cold air to come and expand in his lungs and so he stretches out fully, his socked foot kicking out until it lands in Mikey’s lap.

            There’s a sense of vertigo for just a moment as he takes in how wide the sky is, how firm the ground is behind him, and the weird sensation that he can feel the earth rotating on it’s axis. He groans a little before throwing his arms over his face. “Fuuuuuck this… I’m so tired Mikey…it’s so stupid.”

            “…not stupid.”

            “Yeah, it fucking is. Red just asked about the Losers and…”

… _and I couldn’t fucking handle it._

…

            “What the hell was that about?” Dustin asks as he plops down on his chair, the plastic grocery bag full of yummy snacks thumping on the ground beside him forgotten.

            “How should we know?” Max responds, shaking her head and looking at the stairs behind her. “We were just talking and then Wheeler busts in here like there’s a fire and just ups and grabs Richie…”

            “Fucking weird.” Lucas agrees, sliding in his own chair between Max’s and Dustin’s. “Mike was fine and then all of a sudden was all about needing to come home, saying he’d forgotten something.” He shrugs it off though and works on peeling his coat off. Jogging the last part of the trek home had left him overheated.

            “Fucking weird is putting it mildly.” Dustin mutters and glances over at Will. “You okay buddy?” Will blinks at them before nodding slowly.

            “Yeah, just…” He trails off before sighing. “…worried. Richie looked upset.”

            “He looked frozen you mean. Was it bad what I asked?” Max pushes, looking upset herself and twisting in place where she’s still sitting.

           “…no…?”

            “What were you all talking about anyway?” Lucas probes, wiping his forehead on his sleeve.

            “His friends back home…”

            “Huh…” Dustin shrugs. “Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk about it?”

            “Maybe.”

            The Party members are left contemplating this by themselves for a bit longer. They alternate between getting the room completely set up and talking themselves out of going to search for the twins.

            When the twins do join them, Mike’s shake of the head causes Max’s mouth to shut and the question to be swallowed down. She watches as Richie sticks to Mike like a shadow and for the first couple of minutes as they review the rules, how Richie is quiet and withdrawn before coming to life as he gets _very_ into being the Party’s Rogue.

            His Voice for the Rogue and matching antics spurs Dustin and Mike to up their own game and it’s probably one of the most lively and acted out campaign that they’ve had in ages. It’s easy to be drawn into the world and the story that’s being created, to have their heart beats race with the tension of what next foe they’ll face, to join in the shouting of recommended moves, and to watch with anticipation as a simple roll of the dice determines their fate.

            A lot of laughter and groans can be heard even from the upper level of the house and it causes Nancy more than once to stop in her tracks and smile. Karen as well. It’s simply been too long.

            That isn’t to say that the incident earlier in the day is forgotten but it becomes taboo. The fun of the day places the memory in a shadow to collect dust. And a bloody handkerchief is hidden in the trash. For now.

 

Tbc...


	29. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You all are wonderful!!! I truly enjoy reading every comment, every thought, question, or prediction you all have for what comes next. The support is overwhelming and is truly appreciated. <3
> 
> It's weird to realize that Part I of a story that I started writing about a year from now, is so close to wrapping up. I hope you enjoy the last two chapters of this arc! And thank you again for all of the support!
> 
> It's summer time and the Party have some bonding times as they wrap up the last day of class and start celebrating summer vacation starting!!!

Chapter 28

 

            Summer _finally_ finally is here. There’s the last bell ringing that signals freedom and there’s excited and thunderous chatter that fills the halls as everyone gets up and rushes out of their designated classes.

            So long Hawkins Middle School. Won’t be missing you…

            Richie is dying to get out and go outside, enjoy the sunny warmth and get the purging of the academic year started! However, his nerd brother and friends are apparently feeling a bit more hesitant. They’re slow in gathering their books and notebooks, seemingly more than happy to let everyone else rush in a single crowd to get to the great outdoors.

            He huffs his displeasure after poking Mikey only leaves him with a slapped hand and NO increase in speed that he can see. Richie catches Mr. Clarke’s amused smile behind his bushy little mustache. The teacher is watching all of them, eyes bright. Maybe even overly bright.

            “Sire?” Dusty starts.

            “Yes, Dustin?”

            “Is there a chance we can convince you to be one of our high school teachers next year? We’d all pitch in writing the needed recommendation letters…” He trails off, blushing and yet tone of voice earnest and hopeful. Richie shakes his head at the sight and catches Red’s eye. They share a glance.

            Both of them have been able to talk a bit about how yes, they like Mr. Clarke. He’s a good teacher and he’s a good man but… well, the rest of the Party’s attachment to him seems to go beyond that. Hell, Dusty still calls the man after office hours for whatever “curiosity voyage” he’d embarked on that day. He couldn’t even remember what it had been about the last time. But that probably has more to do with him tuning the curly haired boy out when he’d started sharing about it during recess of all times.

            There was only so much nerd you could take in a day.

            And he and Red get it, they do. Or as much as they can when they hadn’t actually been there to live through it. Richie knows that Mr. Clarke has always been a safe place for the Party. The A/V room a haven that he’d created for them. He’d also played a role in the original Party being able to understand the Upside Down, how it was created, and how to get Will back. The tightrope walker and the flea…

            “You know I can’t but please know, it would have been the greatest honor. Still, I’ll only ever be a call or a walk away…” The words are gentle. “Let’s not turn this into a goodbye. Just a see you later?”

            The man is answered with the original members of the Party giving him solemn hugs, one by one, as Red and Richie watch on.

…

            The first day of the official vacation starts with a meeting in the Wheeler basement very early in the morning. The Party members are all sitting in a loose circle, Mike cradling his supercomm in his hand trying to stay upright as Richie leans into him grumbling about being attacked by the super-nerds and something or other. It’s a lot of cursing and outright whining.

            Apparently, the wake up time they’d all agreed on had been something that Richie hadn’t been listening to yesterday. Not his problem.

            He elbows Richie off of him and manhandles him until he becomes squarely Will’s problem to deal with. His oldest friend gives him a bit of a betrayed look for that but sighs before trying to pacify the grump that’s currently half on and half off his lap.

            “There, there Richie…”

            “I’m not a damn dog!” Richie growls at the patting that’s happening to his head. Yet the next mouthful that the group can hear is… “Shit. But don’t stop either. I’m using you as a fucking pillow since my dick head of a brother…” It trails off into more incoherent grumbles as Mike’s supercomm finally crackles to life.

            “Mike?” El’s voice is soft but clear. “He said yes.” There’s a slight pause before she adds. “Over.” The entire group ( _minus Richie the bear_ ) cheers.

            “That’s awesome…” He nearly bites his tongue at saying her name and instead quickly moves on, hoping she can still hear him despite the raucous noise that the group is causing. “We’ll meet you over at the Quarry. Max has a bathing suit ready for you to use too. Over.”

            “Thank you. Over and out.”

…

            Feeling slightly more awake, Richie has to admit that the Quarry in Hawkins isn’t half bad. He’s kinda sad that the walls are so steep and high unlike Derry’s because it’s clear that they can’t play spit the loogie game ( _no one would fucking see where the fucker landed… boring_ ). And they clearly cannot dare each other to jump off the walls and into the water. Not unless they wanted someone to die.

            He blinks at the sight and shudders. He can’t even believe Mikey even attempted to jump the one time. Without a word, Richie drops his bike and goes over to the knuckle brain and punches him hard in the upper arm.

            “Ow! What the hell, Richie!” Well, that certainly works at getting his lovesick puppy of a twin to get out of the sickening daze he’s been in since hearing that his freaky little girlfriend is on her way. Good to know. ( _A small part of him wonders if the same move would have worked on Big Bill once Molly Ringwald had become part of the Losers’ Club but that just reminds him the way_ he’d _been punched by his friend instead and his scowl darkens_ ).

            “Nothing, stupid hero.” He mumbles in explanation before moving on to explore the area further.

            “What?!” He hears his twin shout at him, sounding both perplexed and bitchy at the same time. He ignores the question though and simply continues moving forward, inspecting the space further. The water looks clear _enough_ that there shouldn’t be any nasty surprises and the rocks that make up its shores are flat enough, some looking actually very smooth. There’s a mix of pebbles surrounding the larger rocks that can be used for an entertaining game of skipping stones and that is definitely promising.

            He takes all the details in as he jumps from one larger surface to the next, not really paying attention to where he’s going or how fast ( _or slow_ ) that he’s doing it. He stays away from the more green leafy areas after a close call with one seriously wickedly big patch of poison ivy. He finally stops when he realizes he has a stitch in his side and makes a face as he tries to rub it out.

            Huh. Maybe he should have been paying more attention. He’s actually gone further than he’d thought and the Party is mostly out of sight. He can still hear them though so he’s not overly worried.

            Richie isn’t entirely surprised that Doe Eyes and Red are the ones who catch up to him first. He is surprised by their concerned looks.

            “Richie, you okay?” Red asks which is quickly followed by Doe Eyes own question.

            “Are you actually mad that we woke you up so early?”

            “What?!” He blinks at them and then realizes belatedly that he sounded exactly like Mikey in that moment, perplexed and bitchy. He shakes his head. The truth is that he is grumpy. He feels out of sorts and has been feeling that way since yesterday. It’s irritating because he can’t quite put his finger onto what’s causing him to feel this way. After all he’d been so friggin’ excited for break to start yesterday morning and then once he’d dumped everything in the garbage just outside the school, with only Red to follow suit, his mood had done a swan dive.

            Richie thinks that he’s been able to mask it well enough yesterday with hopes that sleep would shoot the black mood in the back of the head but today…

            He looks away from them.

            “Nah, not mad. Just checking the place out.” He doesn’t actually need to look back to know that they’re probably exchanging glances, quietly communicating that they don’t buy his bull shit. “There was a Quarry back in Derry.” Internally he winces. Why the fuck would he bring up that shit? He doesn’t want to talk about _that_ of all things.

            “Yeah…” Red moves forward. “The one where Bev jumped before the rest of the Losers could?” He nods, throat tight. He can hear as she opens her mouth and hesitates. Part of him wishes she would just come out and say it. Whatever it is. Because words and sounds are always better than nothing. Even when the words are used as weapons. And anyways, he knows Red’s not here to attack him. “Guess, it’s gotta be a little weird. Here with us at a Quarry that’s not the one you’re used to…” She finally mutters.

            “Is it weird for you?” Richie asks. “I mean, it’s your first summer here too.” He glances at her and sees her blink.

            “Everything here is weird compared to California. I mean… this is no beach. But it’s nice too. Just different.”

            Different. Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s the very thing that’s bothering him right now. That things are just not different _enough._

            The strange overlap in similarities that had helped him feel at home in Hawkins quickly in the first place is now just making things confusing. Off. Not good, not bad. Maybe lacking?

            Like he can’t help but wonder when he’s going to hear the sounds of other bike wheels racing one another to the Quarry’s edge and hear the excited laughter of another group altogether join them.

            He almost wishes the two places, the two groups, his two lives were more different. More distinct. The separation would make it easier then. Damn Dr. Winterwell and his probing questions. Damn him too for pushing back the next appointment as a way to celebrate all his _progress_ and to celebrate the end of school.

            Richie startles when a cool hand comes and tugs on his own, smaller fingers coming to entwine with his own longer ones. There’s a flash of a memory. Of Eds’ small hands coming to grasp at his hand, briefly, hurriedly, almost painfully because he’d been scared. Really scared. So scared he hadn’t even taken the time to bitch and wonder about the last time Richie had fucking bothered to wash his hands. And Richie had also been too scared to make fun at the move, to have a quip at the tip of his tongue just ready to unleash and put distance between himself and his friend. Most likely something about his dick and the pleasures of masturbation and really, Eds needed to join them into fucking adolescence already. They weren’t little kids anymore, didn’t he know? ( _Not that he actually wanted to grow up and be a fucking adult. But he did want the independence that came with adulthood. He wanted to be free, less needy, more able to do whatever the hell he pleased and hopefully, maybe, care less about not being cared about at all. Cause that was an adult_ thing _, right? To not give two fucks? And god, the freedom to get the fuck out of Derry…_ )

            “Come on Richie,” Doe Eyes’ voice is gentle yet assertive, effectively snapping him out of the memory. “Mike’s probably worried about you.” He can’t help but snort at that particular assessment, head shaking almost aggressively, letting his longer curls shake in the air until they land in a more chaotic mess on top of his head. Not that he cares.

            “With the girlfriend arriving? Doubtful.” He scoffs and Red looks relieved at his tone of voice.

            “Awh Richie, are you jealous?” He responds by flicking her off with his free hand before allowing Doe Eyes to tug him back to the main group. He doesn’t try to pull away from the handholding, just taking the small comfort for what it is and all of the quips that could be made and provided in that moment stay behind his teeth, content to not break the mood.

…

            El is excited and nervous at the same time. She doesn’t exactly have the best memories of the Quarry. Her first memories of this place is seeing Will’s fake body ( _not that they knew it was fake at the time_ ) being pulled from the water and Mike lashing out at her. The second was of seeing Mike jumping over the edge. If she’d gotten there later than she had…

            She closes her eyes briefly at the way her heart suddenly hurts. El’s fingers tighten their hold on Mike’s own and he makes a soft questioning noise in the back of his throat. It forces her to open her eyes but she merely shakes her head and smiles at him as an answer.

            She hadn’t been late. That’s all that matters.

The third time she’d come to the Quarry, it had been nighttime. She remembers Mike’s curled up form, the way he’d looked so lost and dejected. He’d just learned about Richie’s existence. It seems so long ago now when in reality, it’s just been a handful of months.

            El really doesn’t have any good memories of this place. She was surprised to hear how excited the Party was at wanting to come here last night. It’s their excitement and the thought of simply being with them that has led her to feeling any excitement too. Still she wonders what sort of fun they possibly can have here.

            She leans further into Mike’s body, listening as he, Dustin, and Lucas are chatting about possible things to do. There’s talk of chickens which seems weird to her and it highlights once again that she’s simply not understanding due to another area where she lacks knowledge that should be common. She knows that she can ask and they’ll answer. But…

            Mike turns to her.

            “What do you want to do El?” She blinks at him. Her answer is clear. Just be here with him. It doesn’t matter what else they do. Not really. Dustin doesn’t get or doesn’t accept her silent answer because he jumps in and repeats the various options they’d been discussing just seconds before.

            “We can take a walk, swim, have chicken fights, teach you to skip stones… unless you know?” She shakes her head no. How do stones skip exactly? And why would chickens fight? Where are the chickens? She frowns at Dustin.

            “I don’t understand.”

            “What…? Which part?” He sounds so eager and her frown melts into a slight smile.

            “Why would chickens fight? Why here? How is that fun?” There are other questions beyond that. Like where are Max, Will and Richie? She knows that they are around here somewhere. After all, Lucas had given her Max’s bag with a bathing suit the second Hopper had dropped her off. She’d briefly glanced inside it; relieved that the bathing suit hadn’t looked like the thing Papa would make her wear for the bath. Instead it had bright happy colors – yellows and pinks and the fabric had been smooth and soft to the touch. She hadn’t put it on yet though.

            “Oh no, El… chicken fight is a game.” Mike starts. “With us. No chickens. It’s…” Lucas cuts him off, smile on his face.

            “You’d basically be on Mike’s shoulders and another pair…”

            “You mean couple,” Dustin sounds a bit sour.

            “ _Pair_ … doesn’t have to be Mad Max and me, _Dustin_.” Lucas mutters with a roll of his eyes. “I just know El’s always gonna be with Mike, am I right?”

            “Of course you’re right. It’s not even a…”

            “You guys are confusing her.” Mike interrupts with a sigh and takes over the explanation quickly. “It’s basically four people at a time making two teams. On each team, there’s one person sitting on the other person’s shoulders or riding them piggy back style.”

            “Piggy back style?”

            “Let me demonstrate.” Dustin jumps back in to the conversation with a mischievous grin.

            “Don’t you fucking dare, Dustin.” Lucas hisses, backing away by taking a couple steps away from them but it doesn’t stop his curly haired friend. He can see that clear as day by the expression on his friend’s face. Lucas braces himself for the impact as Dustin merely laughs and runs towards him anyway. He thinks its pure luck that he doesn’t get bowled over as Dustin jumps onto his back, legs wrapping tightly around his waist. They manage to stay somewhat upright and Lucas curses at his friend while trying to adjust his grip so that Dustin doesn’t get dropped and actually hurt.

            “Piggy back style, my dear lady...” The curly haired teen gives a weird salute that is taking the place of a bow from Lucas’ back while still using one hand to grip tightly at Lucas’ shoulder. Dustin’s large grin full of his white pearly teeth makes him look like the Cheshire Cat from the Alice in Wonderland book that Hopper had gotten her and El’s smile only grows larger.

            “Can you get off now? Please?” Lucas huffs.

            “Aw, come on Lucas! You’re strong and anyway, it’s a good way to test now if we can be partners in this game later on.”

            “You’re such an asshole Dustin. This is supposed to be _in_ water. There’s a reason for that you know.” The two are bickering in a way that El’s smile continues to widen and she feels the tickle in her chest in that she wants to laugh too. She’s still confused as to how this is a game but at least this is fun. It’s nice and she realizes belatedly that all the nervous energy and darker memories of this place have left her.

            Mike shakes his head and with a squeeze of his hand manages to get El’s full attention back on him again. “Ignore them.” He advises. “The whole point of the game is to try and knock the other team over or have them get separated.”

            “Oh…and this is fun?” He gives her a smile for the question and nods.

            “Yeah, it can be. Although, I snorted a lot of water up my nose once. It hurt like hell.” She’s about to ask him about the skipping stones when a voice calls out.

            “Yowza! What the hell Dusty? What are you doing riding Red’s ride? Not cool bro!” Will’s startled laugh follows Richie’s teasing questions and beside her Mike gives another long suffering sigh that would have been lost in Lucas’, Dustin’s, and Max’s reaction if El had been standing further away from him.

            “…and he’s back…” He says quietly but there’s a relieved smile on his face and so El simply tightens her hold on his hand and goes back to watching the rest of the Party come together.

…

            The next couple of days and weeks pass in similar fashion. Every night ends with a plan put in place for the next day. After all, they have at least two more weeks before Red flies off to California and seventeen days left before Mikey-baby, he and the Wheeler family makes the trek to the grandparent’s home. They have to make the most of every moment before the Party is forced to be separated for a bit. And so they do.

            Some days it’s at the Quarry where Mikey and Red and Dusty show the most patience in teaching the girlfriend how to swim and skip stones. ( _Richie’s playing with a couple other nicknames because Mikey’s been giving him_ looks _that show he’s not impressed with_ the girlfriend _nickname from him. Elly Jelly Belly sounds funny in his head but somehow he has a feeling it will_ not _be better welcomed than_ the girlfriend. _Maybe Ellie Belle in his French Voice? Southern Belle Voice? Hmm…. So many options to choose from.)_

            There have been a couple rounds of chicken fights too. The current victors when using unfair telekinetic powers are Mikey and Ellie Belle, the friggin’ soulmates. When the powers aren’t allowed, Richie and Red have made quite the kick ass team. Red’s absolutely vicious and Richie’s height helps them tower over everyone else…well minus Mikey. Stupid fucking twin thing. Red and Stalker are also quite the team when Stalker doesn’t get distracted by Red’s long legs around his shoulders. Doe Eyes and Dusty are an interesting combination and typically win if they’re ever against Mikey and whoever is on his shoulders for that particular round. Richie’s running theory is that Doe Eyes uses his ‘don’t hurt me’ looks to his advantage. It’s made Richie laugh _every_ single time he sees Mikey get taken down by the very look.

            Nothing however has made Richie laugh harder than the moment that Ellie Belle had innocently asked when the boys would be changing into their swimsuits after she and Red had come back from changing into their own. To be fair, none of the boys had taken off their shirts yet. But it had been clear from the way that the girl had asked that she’d clearly thought they were going to be changing into one-piece swimsuits like the ones she and Red were now sporting.

            If any blood had been left in both Stalker’s and his brother’s brains _maybe_ they would have understood the hilarity of the situation. But honestly, even their expressions had added humor to the scene playing out. Same with Dusty’s surprised explanation that they were already _wearing_ their suits and that boy’s trunks and girl’s swimsuits were different. And no, he didn’t know why exactly… or well he did but…

            Richie had nearly died right then and there. He’d have joined in the explanation of _why_ swimsuits were different for boys and girls, maybe thrown in an explanation about the birds and the bees, but a well placed “Beep beep Richie” had come from Doe Eyes just then effectively neutering his response.

            “Aw but cutie pie…” ( _Yeah, Doe Eyes was still Will-Will’s private nickname he used in his head and head only. There just hadn’t been a right time yet to try it out in the open._ ) “You’re no fun.”

            The days they hadn’t gone to the Quarry, they’d spent either in the cabin stuffing their faces full of ice cream and ice pops or at the Byer’s residence since Ms. Byer’s knew Ellie Belle and it was safe for her to join them there. They would spend their time watching newly rented VHS tapes all curled up together and snacking on some freshly popped popcorn. Although Ellie Belle was seriously _obsessed_ with Eggo waffles and really, if they left her to choose the snacks, that would have been all they’d have eaten these past couple of days. Richie is starting to seriously get sick of waffles.

            Some of the movies were classics that Ellie Belle just _needed_ to see according to Dusty, like Star Wars, the Ghost Busters or even Indiana Jones movies. Others were new releases that they had missed seeing in the movie theatre like the Goonies and Back to the Future.

            Trips to the arcade were limited to days when Ellie Belle didn’t get the okay from Hopper to go out. There was no predicting the yes’ and no’s and Richie made it a point to give Mikey room when they’d get the no’s.

            The girl was growing on him slowly ( _especially as she hadn’t made any moves to make anything else fucking float and for that Richie was incredibly grateful_ ), and the earlier pains that had come from summer vacation starting were buried deep deep down.

            There was simply too much fun to be having.

 

Tbc... 


	30. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of Part I and again, I can't thank you all enough for sticking with me throughout! Your support, kudos, comments have been invaluable. I've enjoyed hearing from each and everyone of you. You've brought me joy and motivation to keep on trucking with this story! You've also inspired me. So thank you, thank you, thank you... and I hope you enjoy the last installment of the first part of Long Lost Child. 
> 
> My hope is to start Part II sometime next week. <3

Chapter 29

 

            Mike feels his body reacting before his brain is able to process everything. He feels the tension flood his muscles – even his stomach – and the adrenaline surging as a wave of confusion hits him full force. Dr. Winterwell being here, in the neighborhood, isn’t expected. It’s new and out of the norm and his mind starts to race as to what it can all mean. He’s braking on the pedaling but he isn’t full on stopping, still moving forward towards the house. He knows without looking that Richie is doing the same albeit he’s a bit more vocal in his surprise and confusion.

            “What the hell…?! Did we have a home visit scheduled?” Mike shakes his head but before he can voice _something_ ( _like maybe: stop, and let’s turn back, something isn’t right or… where’s mom? Where’s Nancy? Why is he simply outside, waiting? Paranoid, paranoia, yes, yes… he knows it but it’s suspicious right?),_ Richie calls out to the man. “Hey Doc, whatcha doing in this neighborhood?”

            The distance between the three players is so rapidly erased that they’re now face to face. Richie is even climbing off his bike and lets it fall onto the grass of their front yard. Mike stays perched on the very edge of his bike seat though; one foot on a pedal while the other is firmly planted on the ground – just ready to push off.

            ( _The brain continues to scream a conflicted inner monologue, listing all the evidence that Dr. Winterwell is safe, has been safe, and this may be routine. How the fuck should he know? He’s never been in therapy before. The other screams at him that all of this is very very wrong and why the hell did Richie get off his bike?)_

            “Hello you two,” The tone is familiar. Warm and soothing. Gentle and welcoming. The smile on the older man’s face is tense though, not as authentic. It seems out of place and again and again, Mike’s mind wars on. He doesn’t know it now, but he will forever regret the hesitation, the doubting of his gut telling him to turn back and run away. “I was hoping to catch you both.”

            “Is Aunt Karen not home or something?” The tension in that smile seems to increase for a second. Maybe even less than that. It’s such a minute detail. A micro-facial expression that’s gone within the blink of an eye. So hard to know if it’s imagined or real. Only later, when its too late will Mike have his confirmation that he isn’t imagining _anything_.

            “No, it seems I must have missed her. I was actually about to head back since no one was home…”

            “Huh, well glad we showed up just on time.” Richie’s smile is genuine despite his confusion. “So what can we help you with good sir?”

            “Oh,” Dr. Winterwell looks behind himself for a moment, back to his car. “Well more like something I needed to give you both before our next meeting.”

            “And Dr. Evans knows?” Mike finds his voice, finally entering the fray.

            “Yes, yes…” The answer sounds distracted. Frazzled maybe? “Meant to call before just stopping by but, it must have slipped my mind.”

            “It happens,” Richie mutters in a British voice, slapping his hands together. “Well why don’t you grab whatever it is, good man, and we can invite you in for some tea until Aunt Karen gets here.” The man blinks and nods.

            “That sounds fine, just fine. If you could just help me though…” Maybe it’s the prolonged feel of the conversation that makes Mike drop his guard fully. Maybe it’s the fact that the side that is full of doubt in his instincts, reminding him over and over of his diagnosis, of how public this all is ( _I mean surrounded by neighbors, in the day light, what could the man possible do to them?_ ), that Richie doesn’t find anything alarming ( _fucking weird, yes, but not alarming_ )… whatever it is, Mike drops his bike next to where Richie’s is already laying on the ground. He walks over with Richie and Dr. Winterwell towards the backside door where there are papers strewn about. Mike doesn’t see anything that the man could particularly need help with but…

            …and that’s the last thought he remembers having before everything goes black.

…

            Karen comes home, frustrated at having run to Ted’s work on the belief that he needed an envelope that had arrived this afternoon _immediately_ only to arrive at his office, Holly in tow and be greeted with a confused expression. The official looking sealed envelope had been opened together and the paper inside had been blank. Follow up questions had revealed that no one, absolutely _no one_ in the office had made the call asking for this immediate delivery. Ted had asked, confusion turning into irritation before he’d brushed that aside with a casual explanation that it must be a kid’s prank. She knows, just in the way he’d spoken his theory, that her husband thinks it’s Richie along with Mike’s support that played the prank but she can’t believe that of her boys. She just can’t.

            In truth, the explanation that this is a prank fits. But she has no idea who would go to such length and for what reasons. The person who had made the call had sounded like a grown, professional sounding woman. Not a teenager up to no good, bored, and wanting to get a few laughs in, without any idea of the impact that such a prank could play on people’s lives. Like the time wasted traveling back and forth and the emotional frustration of even trying to have a conversation with Ted about something he had no idea about…

            She wishes she could say she has ideas of who could be behind this but she honestly doesn’t. And oh, if she could just get her hands on the person though, she’d have a _lot_ to tell them about how little the prank was appreciated and exactly how much it had interfered ( _still is interfering_ ) with everything she needs to get done as they’re only five days away from leaving to go to her parents’ home. Holly is hot and tired and whiney which does not help.

            Karen sees their house up ahead though and tries to work out the tension from her jaw; clenching her teeth is just going to give her a headache on top of everything else.

            “Holly, sweetie, look, we’re home!” She says in forced cheer. “Let’s treat ourselves to a popsicle before we start deciding what to make for dinner. How does that sound, honey?” Holly’s cheerful ( _and loud_ , _Richie’s influence on her is clear in that respect_ ) exclamation at least is not forced and Karen is thankful for that.

            She does experience a mix of irritation and relief at noticing Mike and Richie’s bikes strewn just on the edge of their lawn and the road. The irritation is for the bikes being left so casually about, clearly no care that a passing car could potentially hit the bikes if the driver didn’t see them in time. The relief is that they’re home and they can help her with getting dinner ready. Hopefully give her some breathing room and maybe also help her come up with a list of possibilities of who is behind the prank. But maybe she shouldn’t bring that up to them. Maybe it would be best to just go straight to Hopper and get his take on the situation.

            Karen is still mulling over those ideas as she gets Holly out of the car and proceeds to get them into the house. The locked door gives her pause and the irritation flares back up again. First things first, tell Mike and Richie to get their bikes back where they belong. Honestly, what are they thinking? Then, popsicle, then dinner. With that decided, she swings the door open and takes a breath in while gently nudging Holly inside before following her.

            “Mike? Richie? I’d like you boys to put your bikes away.” The house is strangely quiet and her voice echoes sharply with no return greeting. “Michael?!” The yell is a bit louder this time. “Richie?!” Nothing still.

            Holly is starting to whine again for her promised treat and Karen heads in the direction of the kitchen to get her youngest the popsicle. Maybe the boys aren’t home. She frowns at that and tries to remember what the two of them had said they’d be up to today. She remembers plans to meet up with their friends at the Quarry but nothing else. They’d promised to be back in time for dinner. She quickly scans the kitchen and all the usual places for where they could have left a note to let her know of a change of plans. Nothing.

            Holly is happily munching on her treat giving Karen some time to quickly investigate and make sure that the boys aren’t actually present and just so absorbed with a movie or a new song that they didn’t hear her calling… it wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to Karen.

            The basement and their bedroom are empty.

            There’s nothing to be worried about though as a glance at the clock still reveals that there’s a good hour before it’s officially dinnertime. Maybe they stopped by Lucas’ place…

            So Karen closes their bedroom door shut behind her and makes her way back to the kitchen and doesn’t think more about the matter until Ted is home and Nancy is home and the minutes start to tick away and still Mike and Richie aren’t home.

            Karen starts with calling the usual suspects: Lucas first, Will next, Dustin follows, and then lastly Maxine. With the first call, it’s still irritation that is the primary emotion. But the worry underneath gains strength and turns to panic as one by one, each friend and each of their parent’s confirm the same story. Mike and Richie left the Quarry hours ago with their destination clearly being home. None of them have heard from the two boys since they parted at the Quarry.

            As she places the phone back in it’s cradle, Maxine’s voice still ringing in her ears, Karen knows that she has to turn around and face her family. She knows that she needs to ask about other possibilities but her mind doesn’t want to go there. Her boys just _can’t_ , they just _can’t be missing_. Because these things just don’t happen. They just don’t. And they live in a safe area and this day has already been so off and strange and oh my god what if the prank and this is connected but that’s absurd. And oh god, is this how Joyce felt? And no, no, don’t think about Joyce. Don’t think about Will. It’s different. This isn’t the same thing. She needs to calm down. She needs to keep it together. She needs to turn around and just open her mouth…

            It’s too early to panic and to jump to conclusions. _Yet her brain is absolutely yelling at her at this point and_ is _panicking because her boys_ are _gone and she doesn’t know where they are…and that is_ all _she knows right now._

            “Mom?” Nancy’s voice is hesitant, concerned. “What did they say?” Karen takes a deep breath and turns around.

            “They don’t know where they are…”

…

            Lucas isn’t surprised when Dustin calls him using the supercomm. He was expecting his friend to check-in the second he’d hung up with Mike’s… aunt, knowing that Dustin would most likely get a phone call too about Mike and Richie’s whereabouts. He just was hoping that the call would be different than it actually is. That they would be laughing, already planning on teasing Mike and Richie for getting caught messing with their curfew. It’s not at all like that though. Instead, it’s hushed and tense and Lucas feels at once scared and tired. The too familiar, _this again_ , feeling coming to wrap around him and he’s already wondering what time everyone should plan to meet up and where they should start the search party.

            “Lucas, I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Over.” Dustin’s voice crackles just a bit and Lucas stares at the supercomm but doesn’t really see it where it rests in his hands. He can imagine Dustin’s face though. Can imagine where his friend is, most likely in his bedroom, perched on his bed and peering anxiously out the window, one hand tugging at his curly hair with his baseball hat already thrown on the ground.

            “Maybe Mike and Richie stayed instead of just dropping our Mage off and just… lost track of time. Over.” Lucas says quietly. He’s hoping that’s the case. It’s possible after all. Mike is so enamored with El that he could see his friend totally losing track of time. It’s a hopeless hope because his own logic attacks it the second that he says it out loud. Mike is too careful to do anything to get in trouble again and El still makes Richie just a bit nervous. Dustin’s silence is loud and Lucas looks outside his window. With it being summer, the days are getting longer. They’ll have another handful of hours before it gets dark. On one hand, that might make searching easier. On the other hand, it’ll make sneaking out harder.

            “Maybe…” Dustin is kind in his response although the tone is clearly doubtful. Maybe he wants it to be true too though and will play along. “I didn’t think of that. I guess we should call El and ask…over.”

            “Yeah, yeah…we should do that.” Lucas takes a breath and releases it. It’s good to have a plan. Something to do. Something to focus on. “I can do that. I’ll call you and give an update okay? Call Will and Max to update them of the plan too. No doubt Mrs. Wheeler called them after us. Over.”

            “Roger that, over and out.”

            It’s a simple twist to change frequencies and El’s sweet voice fills his room. It’s relaxed and happy albeit a bit surprised at hearing from him. At first her relaxed tone is soothing and she sounds so happy that for a moment, hope rebuilds within Lucas. Maybe his thought wasn’t so out there.

            Sadly, it doesn’t last as it gets dashed right away. El hasn’t seen Mike or Richie since they dropped her off. Well shit…

            They need to start planning that search party stat.

…

            El hears Lucas continuing to talk but she’s not listening to him. Not to the words anyway. Because his tone of voice, the slight tremor as he tries to come across as confident that there’s another explanation, is much more honest to her than any words he’s using.

            She feels cold and she slowly sits back on the edge of the couch. There’s something wrong here. Mike missing? Richie too? But she’d just seen them, been with them… she could still feel the way Mike’s lips had felt against her own when he’d kissed her goodbye. It had only been a handful of hours ago.

            “Lucas.” She says, cutting him off. “I’m going to search for them… my way.” She doesn’t bother to say over. He’s not Mike. And anyway, there’s no time to waste. She needs to confirm that Mike and Richie aren’t missing. That there’s been a mistake. She’ll find him. She always has. She switches the supercomm off and turns the television on with a flick of her head. It’s like trading one noise for another.

            The channels change rapidly, almost too rapidly for her to catch what show or what character is on before they’re gone and it’s onto the next. It’s irritating though, the few seconds that it does take her to find the snowy screen.

            The dead channel.

            She closes her eyes, not wanting to bother getting her bandana. She doesn’t really need it anyway. Not with him.

            _Mike…_

            The Void swallows her up but he doesn’t join her. She doesn’t even feel his presence and that scares her. _Mike!_ She puts more power behind the name and the Void widens but still…it stays empty. There’s nothing, nothing but the darkness and the water rippling away from every step that she takes. The first steps are slow but then she starts to run, yelling his name and hearing its echo die in the eerie plane that refuses to change and refuses to show her what she’s demanding to see.

            _Richie! Mike!_

            She doesn’t know how long she spends in the Void screaming for them. She just knows that suddenly there’s a hand physically shaking her and the empty Void dissipates around her with the darkness being wiped away and the color of the dim cabin filling her senses in the Void’s absence.

            El’s left seeing Lucas and the rest of the Party members as they circle around her. Lucas has his camouflage paint on his cheeks and he’s sweaty, like he’s already biked and run around all their usual haunts. She knows that if she looks at the rest of them, she’ll see other traces that they’ve been searching out there for hours most likely if the amount of blood pooling down her nose and chin and the way her head is pounding is any indication.

            Lucas’ grip on her bicep loosens and he steps away. There’s the background noise of Dustin and Lucas and Max whispering to each other about what to do next and how they need Hopper to be here…but what if he’s already searching? What if he’s already been called? They don’t know anything of what’s going on in the Wheeler household since they’ve left their own.

            Will slides into the space that Lucas was in just moments before. He has a wet paper towel that he offers to her somberly, brown eyes large and scared and sad. There’s a streak of dirt on his cheek and what looks like a scratch underneath. He must have ridden his bike too close to a tree branch.

            “You couldn’t find them, could you?” He asks softly even though he already knows. They all know. It must have been clear on her face the second they found her. She’s failed. And she doesn’t understand why. Mike has always been there for her to find, to reach for… why is he not there? Even when she’d searched for Barb and she’d been _gone,_ El had still been able to find Barb and see her. But here… there had just been… emptiness.

            Will’s touch is gentle as he starts to wipe her face clean for her when she just stares at his offered paper towel blankly. And he’s there to hold onto when she crumbles and starts to cry brokenly into his shoulder because the emptiness scares her and she no longer knows what to do.

 

  

End of Part I

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Long Lost Child fanmix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20271889) by [EudociaCovert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EudociaCovert/pseuds/EudociaCovert)




End file.
